Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (82)

I closed my eyes, so confused and conflicted and cornered that tears threatened to arrive.

For once, the king didn’t demand I keep them open.

He delivered my traitorous body to a release as gentle as the roughened fingertips trailing my legs, and then he followed with a snarled groan.

Afterward, he cleaned me, and I curled onto my side to face him when he returned from the bathing room. I searched those dark-blue eyes, and they searched mine.

And I wondered if we were both looking for something we were too afraid to find.

Fear had held me prisoner my entire life. More than Rolina. More than this male. And more than anyone else ever could.

I couldn’t keep letting it control me. I had to stop letting it keep me where I didn’t wish to be.

Here, that noose around my neck—the bond I’d found with this king—tightened. I wish to be right here.

But although I might have been a part of his plan, it couldn’t be more clear, especially after hearing pieces of his conversation with Fume, that Florian was incapable of turning the tides of his own making.

And I’d been swimming toward nothing for too long.

Florian studied my every feature, his jaw firm. Yet he would not demand that I tell him what was ailing me again. Not when he did not wish to acknowledge things I’d rather not even acknowledge myself.

But I needed to.

I needed to use what I felt as a weapon, rather than let it use me.

I needed to use whatever he felt for me, however small, rather than let him play with me until he decided he was bored and his mission was complete.

So I said softly, “I still hate you, you know.”

He tensed, something passing through his eyes.

Reaching out, I traced his cheekbone, whispering without enough air in my chest, “Most of all, I hate that I think I’m falling in love with you.”

His lips parted slightly, but otherwise, he just continued to stare. He didn’t blink. Florian did exactly what I expected and needed him to.

Nothing at all.

I rolled over to face the balcony doors and sleep, knowing he would leave me again and attempting not to let it wound. For although I hadn’t thought I’d meant what I’d said, I supposed I had to some extent.

I was falling, and it was time to find a way out before his refusal to catch me killed me.





I’d assumed correctly.

The following morning, Florian was gone.

It was what I wanted. What I needed. Yet alone in my own rooms, I bathed and angrily scrubbed useless tears from my cheeks.

A grizzly glance from Olin, when I ventured downstairs for breakfast and dared to ask of the king’s whereabouts, conveyed the steward would rather swim naked in the iced-over lake than indulge any curiosity of mine.

He walked past me and up the stairs, nose in the air and a steaming cup of ginger-scented tea in hand.

Right. Still despised me, then. I sighed, even as I tried not to laugh.

One of the groundskeepers opened the manor doors to let Snow in.

The wolf bounded through the foyer toward me, bigger than I’d last seen and trailing mud behind her.

I crouched to nuzzle my face in her wet coat, then swiped dirt from her cheeks. “Did you miss me?” She licked my cheek, and I laughed. “I missed you more. Hungry?” I asked, rising and smiling as she raced ahead of me and down the hall to the kitchen stairs.

“Well, if it isn’t the captive bride.” Kreed wriggled his brows while I took a seat upon the stool at the island bench. “I’ll need a minute to prepare you your usual.” He pointedly cleared his throat. “After such a long absence.”

Heat crept into my cheeks. I muttered scratchily, “It’s only been a few days.”

The cook grinned, blinding and mischievous. “Four days, Princess.” He laughed, then whistled. “That’s some prowess, even for a royal male.”

I refused to tell him that I could have comfortably left the king’s rooms yesterday, and that Florian had thought it best we be absolutely certain the heat was over beforehand. “Stop it,” I hissed but smiled, then looked around. “Where are the twins? Though I’m glad they’re not here to hear you tease me, I would like to thank them for watching Snow.”

“Helping to clean up the melting mess outside.” He dumped a cup of oats into a pot of water. “And no need. They tried to keep her, I’ll have you know. I think you might have to share now.”

I looked down at Snow, who was licking her bowl clean, relieved. Glad to know that should I find a way to Baneberry, then the wolf would be cared for. And if I never returned to this frosty kingdom, then she would be loved.

My chest clenched.

Forcing out a breath that shook, I feigned a yawn that made the cook laugh again as he finished preparing my breakfast.

I ate while lost in the gloom of my thoughts, and Kreed vigorously scrubbed the bottom of a large pot. Then what he’d said came back to me, and I stopped chewing to ask, “The snow melts?”

He shot me a smile over his shoulder. “The snow melts.”

I frowned when he looked away, poking at my breakfast with the spoon. “You seem far too pleased by this.” I would have thought the people of Hellebore knew exactly what living here entailed—terminal cold.

He laughed, the sound thick with dry disbelief. “Princess, it’s been years of endless snow. Everyone is pleased.”