Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (66)

Florian studied me. His own mouth twitched, then he stepped away with a rough exhale and held out his hand.

I looked at it, then at his eyes. “We’re materializing?”

“Unless you think yourself too unwell. In which case, you are welcome to stay here and rest.”

That I knew he would prefer that while I was victim to the heat had me stepping forward and folding my hand around his.

He eyed me curiously, as if sensing that I would endeavor to intentionally displease him, and took my other hand. He pulled me against his hard body. Another whisper was murmured to my hairline with tickling lips. “Hold on tight, troublesome creature.”





The energy currents were no kinder to me this time.

Screeching darkness stole my breath and every thought from my mind.

We were spat out with a force that would’ve sent me to my knees with nausea if it weren’t for Florian’s arm banding tight around my waist.

He held me to him as the world reshaped itself.

The call of owls and revelry nearby trickled in as the ringing in my head faded. My tight breaths soon slowed. My eyes opened to find the top button of Florian’s shirt pressed against the tip of my nose.

I broke out of his hold and rubbed it. “Where are we?”

“Wattle Woods,” he said, then remembered I had no idea what that meant. “We’re at the base of Frostfall Mountains.” He gestured to the trees climbing high over the dark hills behind us. “The manor and city are on the other side. Half a day’s journey via horseback.”

That would mean... “We’re near the sea?”

Florian huffed. “A few hours on foot.” A look at my shoes. “I must advise against fleeing for a ship in such impractical footwear, butterfly.”

I snorted, inwardly admonishing myself for showing that he was humorous. Frosty kings with armies swarming and robbing another kingdom should not be considered anything but grotesquely immoral.

And immoral Florian most certainly was, but grotesque...

Unfortunately not.

Perhaps I would find it easier to cling to my hatred for his cruelty and duplicitous actions if he was.

That should have shamed me, and it did, though mostly because I felt no shame for my own actions—and because I hadn’t even considered escape until he’d mentioned it.

“Running anywhere in your state would not be wise,” Florian said darkly, as if he could see my thoughts dancing all over my face. He likely could. I was not at all adept at hiding anything. “Though if you’re truly desperate to try, I shall give you a head start.”

A howl struck through the night. The eerie sound did not come from a beast, but from those in the clearing aglow with flickering firelight through the trees.

Florian grinned, the beautiful transformation of his goddess-blessed features anything but inviting. “I do enjoy a good hunt.”

I glowered. “You wouldn’t win anything if you caught me.”

His brow arched. He closed the distance between us with a flaring of his nostrils and his brightening eyes drifting down my body. “If you say so.”

His patience seemed endless—depthless.

Given all he’d planned and was now executing so meticulously, if this tension between us snapped in such a final way, I might as well be giving him the killing blade.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if I hadn’t discovered his true desires for me, if I’d have made my way to his rooms at the first signs of the heat’s arrival, what we might have already done...

His wolfish grin waned, his brows lowering as though he would speak.

Then there was a violent shake of the ferns at my ankles, and I startled, turning and flattening my back to Florian’s chest.

He grunted, his hands falling to my arms. Before his fingers could enclose around them, my heart stopped for a different reason.

I crossed to the ferns as a sniffing nose and beady eyes appeared.

I gathered my gown to crouch low and inspect it. The creature should have scuttled away, but to my surprise and delight, it waddled toward me on legs so tiny, its stout body was covered in dirt when I picked it up.

I brushed some from its smooth fur. Those beady eyes seemed unsure as they glanced at the king behind me.

I trailed a finger over its back. “Is it a peppin?”

“Close,” Florian said. “A burshka.” Carefully, he pointed at the wriggling ears, his fingers skimming mine. “See, the ears are more round, and they’re twice the size of a peppin.”

“Peppins must be tiny indeed.” The creature’s nose twitched as it shied away from the king’s giant hand. “It’s so soft.” I pushed the critter toward him, forgetting how close we were. My arm brushed his stomach. “Touch it.”

As though I were doing something ridiculous, his mouth quirked with his brow. “I’ve seen hundreds of them before, butterfly. Gnawing at carcasses or stealing food from camps and village barns.”

He was as foolish as he was handsome if he thought that would deter me. “But have you ever held one?” The creature’s little claws dug into my hand as I again offered it to the king.

He looked down at it with a slight shake of his head. He might have been itching to arrive at the festival, but he was far from annoyed.

He plucked the burshka from my hand as if it were nothing but the rodent it was. It squeaked like a miniature pig.