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Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1)(21)

Author:Ella Fields

Once done, I folded the parchment and looked up to find Florian filling the entire doorway.

His gaze roamed the shelves at the end of the bed, the nightstand, and then the single bed. As if wading through mud and not into a small room, he carefully navigated his way to the books upon the shelves.

“Your bed is the size of a peanut compared to the monstrosity in the deceased’s chamber.”

“This is her apartment,” I said, not in Rolina’s defense but because it was true. “I was merely a guest.”

Florian’s long fingers skimmed the worn spines until he encountered one of my favorites. A book that had been read more than any other favorite. “For twenty years,” he said.

Saying nothing, I rose to my feet and set the parchment and ink in my nightstand drawer. I no longer had to hide anything for fear of Rolina’s temper striking my few possessions. The habit was hard to shake all the same.

“Magical Monsters of Folkyn,” Florian murmured. “I’m surprised such a thing is allowed here.”

I refrained from telling him that many books from Folkyn resided here in our library and for purchase at market stalls. I’d hate for anyone as curious and lonely as I had been to go without the ability to learn whatever they desired should he decide to make sure they were properly outlawed.

I stood beside him. His woodsy caramel scent forced me back a small step when it lured me closer—as it tempted me to dare find where the scent was strongest. His neck, I imagined, or maybe that thick hair…

Finished with inspecting the food and time-stained pages, the king swept his eyes to me. “Are you not going to collect your belongings?”

“No,” I said.

He eyed the letter within my hand. “Can’t say I blame you. The only thing of interest here is your scent and the books.” With that alarming comment, he set the book back where he’d found it and turned for the door.

I followed, of course, but then quickly returned to grab the book he’d been looking at.

After tucking the letter beneath the cover, I found the king waiting at the door. “Have you ever materialized?”

“Not willingly.”

His slight frown was nearly imperceptible. “Interesting.” He stepped out into the hall. “Lock the door.”

I did and pulled it closed. “Before we go, I would like to return this to the library downstairs.”

“Your beloved book with the letter inside?” he asked what he already knew.

I held it to my chest protectively. “It will only take a moment.”

He noted the action with a twitch to his lips, then nodded and stepped aside. “Very well.”

I hurried down the stairwell to the tiny secret entrance to the library. I didn’t enter. Carefully, I reached in to set the book on the floor inside.

Florian stood upon the landing, watching me latch the padlock. “I assume there is someone who means something to you in the library.”

“My friend works there. He might wonder where I’ve gone, and I don’t want him to worry.”

“I thought you had no friends.”

“Just the one.” I rose to my feet and brushed my hands over my skirts. “Ready.”

Florian was still looking at the small door behind me. I took a step closer, and his eyes met mine, a dark and twinkling blue. “Are you truly, butterfly?”

“I’ve waited so long,” I confessed. “What I am is impatient.”

Amusement momentarily curled his mouth. Then he extended his hands, and I placed mine within his. “Then let us not keep you waiting a moment longer.”

He tugged me close. So close, my chest touched his and his fingers linked with mine. At my hairline, he inhaled deeply, then whispered, “Close your eyes, sweet creature.”

Not a breath later, everything grew dark.

I was twisting, twirling, and screaming with no sound.

A vortex of nothing and everything pushed and shoved as though I were going against the laws of nature by traveling along the rifting tides of energy.

I was. We were. The few times I’d done it before, I’d been sick afterward.

It seemed this time would be no different.

Not even the king’s steadying hold could keep me from stumbling to my knees in the snow. I clutched my stomach and retched. Mercifully, nothing came up.

Florian clasped me under the arms and pulled me to my feet. “Breathe through your nose, butterfly.”

I did, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

His large hands were a much-needed warmth at my cheeks, turning my focus from the swirling white at my feet to dark-blue eyes. I drew in a longer inhale and released it slowly. Again when he nodded.

It was then I finally felt the cold burn enveloping my feet.

I tore free from his searching gaze and took in our surroundings. We stood in a small clearing within the woods. Trees towered above us, branches bare and any foliage that remained drizzled with snow. “Where are we?”

“Hellebore, of course.”

“It’s so cold.”

“Didn’t your books tell you so?” he drawled, sarcasm soaking each word. “It’s the coldest part of the continent.”

“Books can only tell you so much,” I said, my breath pluming before me. “Some things need to be felt to be truly known.”

“I could not agree more.” He then trudged through the snow toward a waiting carriage.

Horses, as tall as cottages and as dark as night, shifted and huffed from the disturbance our arrival had created. Beside them stood a driver dressed in a blue and black uniform with a matching scarf. His chestnut eyes looked me over once, dismissively, before he looked at his king.

Behind the carriage were more horses, white and just as giant. The five males with them stared at me as though I were a weed in a garden of flowers. A mixture of curiosity and disdain.

Florian took an awaiting black coat from a male with deep-red hair.

I forgot to care about their opinions of me when the king draped the beautiful fur over my shoulders, the sleeves lined with a luxurious wool.

Then he picked me up.

My heart tumbled, my hands unsure where to land and flailing. “I am capable of climbing into a carriage, Majesty.”

“You wear miserable excuses for shoes. They’re already sodden.” He set me inside the large leather and earthy caramel-scented space. A pair of white boots awaited on the floor. On the leather seat, a thick pair of woolen socks.

I blinked at them. “For me?”

“Put them on,” he said. He disappeared, presumably to talk with the males I’d assumed were some of his royal warriors.

I didn’t argue, the shock wearing off and the cold seeping beneath my flimsy cotton dress and ruined slippers.

Florian returned when I’d finished and took a seat beside me.

The leather bench seat spanned the length of the ginormous carriage. His presence, the heat emanating from him, still made me far too aware of every breath I drew.

The carriage lurched forward, taking my stomach with it in a violent dip. Withholding an excited laugh, I pulled the velvet drapes covering the window aside.

Miles of snow and trees stretched beyond. Though peacefully picturesque, the darkness between the trees and the mountains warned of the dangers within. Yet a feeling that alarmed as much as it comforted told me I had nothing to fear with a male more dangerous than a horde of beasts seated beside me.

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