Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (78)

But most of all, I was just... grateful. Relieved that it was him seeing me through the heat, and that I hadn’t needed to find a willing stranger or attempt to endure the impossible by waiting for it to pass.

“Thank you,” I said, the word close to a whisper when he returned to feed me some bread and soup.

Florian’s hand paused over the golden bowl, his eyes upon the creamy concoction within. Then he brought the bread to my mouth. “Do not thank me, butterfly.” Lust brightened his gaze and dropped his dark lashes as he watched me eat. “I am far from selfless, especially when it comes to you.”

I understood his meaning, and it didn’t erase my gratitude in the slightest. “I’m sure many a male has desired another in the way you do me, but that does not mean they’d be so...” I gripped his wrist, taking the rest of the bread and smiling as I chewed and settled on, “Doting.”

Florian huffed, again wiping at the food that’d escaped my lips and sucking it from his thumb. “Doting is not the right word,” he said, and headed back to the tray.

Instead of asking what was, for I had a feeling he would not answer, I asked another burning question. “Who’s watching Snow?”

He returned to me with more bread. “The twins.”

I missed her. It hadn’t been that long, yet I was beginning to miss the entire estate I’d thought to be my prison full of enemies. “Can I see her tomorrow?”

“Not unless I bring her to you.” Noting my displeasure, he murmured with a gloss of his knuckles over my cheek. “You’re still vulnerable.”

I gently pushed his hand away when he offered me another bite of bread, forcing back a smile when he scowled. “I’m over the worst of it.”

“I’m not,” he said, gruff. “I want you where I know you’re protected and can see you until it’s over.”

I sighed and bit into the bread, the pleased glint in his eyes tempting me to bite his fingers. He wouldn’t mind, and so I didn’t bother.

“What happens,” I said, swallowing the dough, “after it’s done?” I’d been so distracted with trying to survive it, then satiating it—obsessed with overindulging in this king with an appetite to rival any goddess-given heat—that I hadn’t been able to give enough thought to what would come.

Florian glared down at the bowl, as if unsure how to answer that.

Cold slithered into my chest.

I attempted to ignore it by saying, “My abilities.” I’d never expected to have any outside of materializing unless they were small and few, for I’d never expected to discover that I was a royal.

“Your ability to materialize will be easier, but as for the rest...” He dipped the bread and pushed it between my teeth. “We wait and see.”

If I could materialize with more ease, and if Florian could teach me how to break into the energy folds for that to happen, then I could reach Baneberry.

I could reach King Molkan. My father.

Perhaps, I thought dangerously, I could even find more than the answers I desired about my family. Perhaps I could find more information about this hatred between Molkan and Florian.

And perhaps then I could help end all of this.

Unable to bite my tongue nor keep the gathering eagerness from my voice, I said far too quickly, “I want to test it. Materializing.”

The king frowned as if knowing exactly why I would want to learn. “Not while the scent of your constant state of arousal still lingers so potently.”

Of course, he would not teach me such a thing. He didn’t trust me, and he was right not to.

I didn’t take it personally. I would indeed run as soon as an opportunity arose, and Florian trusted very few. And though I knew he would tend to my every need inside these chambers, I did not trust him either.

If there was a way out of this game of war and revenge, I would not find it here. No matter how skilled the king was at tempting me to believe in this false sense of safety.

“It is a song,” Florian explained in my silence. “A call to the wild that has found many their counterpart.”

That piqued a new curiosity that was certainly better left alone. “A mate, you mean?”

He nodded once and turned back to the tray of food. “The heat repeats for a handful of years until a mate is found, or the female body simply learns to respect the soul’s decision not to hurry the search for one.”

I stared at the captivating expanse of his back, the question I didn’t need to ask stuck like glue behind my teeth.

Florian braced his hands upon the drawers, seemingly lost in thought as he stared down at the food. Muscle bulged in his biceps when he clenched the wood, then swept a hand through his tousled hair.

It was best to talk of something else, so I decided to show him what I’d sensed after he’d left me alone in his chambers.

I stood and crossed to the drapes covering the balcony doors. “Look.”

Florian turned, his brow furrowing and his lips forming a tight line.

“Baneberry royals have an affinity for nature, do they not?”

Birds filled the balcony. Every inch of the stone railing was covered, and some even perched upon the ground.

The king walked over to join me, and I expected the birds to fly away. They didn’t.

Sunlight streaked across his cheek and torso, his taut skin close to gleaming in response and his eyes nearing a rare shade of purple. “Flora, usually.” The belated words were absent. “That which grows from soil.”