Chapter 5

The edge of my blade pressed deeper, drawing a dark drop of blood against Malakor's skin.

"Try it, you devil," I said, my voice dripping with lethal toxin. "Take another bite without my permission, and I won't just feed you venom—I will slice open your throat and take the utmost delight in watching you drown in it."

Malakor held my gaze for a few seconds. The golden fire in his eyes burned with an terrifying, primal intensity. But slowly and painfully, his self-control reasserted itself.

He didn't flinch as he stepped back, leaving an ocean of cold air between us.

"Fierce." A slow, wicked smirk curved his lips as he wiped a drop of dark blood from his side with a flick of his finger. "I do admire a woman who doesn't bend."

"I don't bend, and I certainly don't play host to arrogant royals and spoilt brats," I snapped, sheathing my dagger back into my waist belt. I adjusted my silk robe, my pulse still racing like a trapped bird.

"The storm has cleared enough," I cleared my throat and folded my arms, nodding towards the to the window overlooking the courtyard. "Gather your strength and leave."

Malakor walked to the window and pulled back the curtain, looking out into the pale morning light.

"Well, isn't this quite a delight." His head reared back as a discreet chuckle rumbled in his throat.

"What?" I frowned.

"I don't think I'll be going anywhere, my sweet dark angel."

"And what is that supposed to-" I stormed over to the window, but the words died in my throat as I looked past his shoulder.

A fresh, violent blizzard had rolled over the mountain peaks while we were locked in our standoff. A wall of white fury was tearing through the pass, burying the estate under feet of snow and ice. The wind roared like a maddened beast, shattering the visibility down to mere inches.

"A localized frost-storm," Malakor noted, folding his arms as all traces of humor disappeared from his face.

"Magically induced." His eyes narrowed. "My brother’s trackers know I headed into these mountains. They can't pinpoint this sanctuary through your wards yet, but they are freezing the entire range to hunt me down."

"So your presence here puts a target on my back." My fists clenched tightly and my teeth grinded together in a slow building fury.

"It means," Malakor turned to face me, leaning back against the stone sill, "that we are trapped together until that storm burns out. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to throw me to the wolves and deal with my brother's entire war host on your doorstep."

I glared at him, cursing the fate that had brought this infuriating male to my refuge. However, I had to also accept reality. He was right. If his brother’s scouts found him near my borders, they wouldn't leave a witness alive.

"Fine," I scoffed. "You can stay. But you observe the rules of my house."

"Which are?" His head tilted to the side, the familiar and irritating amusement reappearing on his face.

"One. You do not touch me." I scowled deeply.

His eyes roamed from my face to my slightly exposed cleavage and his Adam's apple bobbed. His gaze lowered to my bare thighs and his breathing seemingly intensified. I could have sworn his eyes had a strange glow for a split second. I dragged the bottom of my robe downwards in a futile effort to shield my thighs from his gaze, a steaming flush surrounding my face. However, it also thankfully brought his attention back to my face.

"And rule two?" He cleared his throat.

"You do not demand my blood." I narrowed my eyes. "Rule three, keep your distance."

"Rule three and rule one sound alike."

"It's a two-parter."

He stared at me for a moment, all trace of emotion vacant from his face.

"Do I make myself clear?" I folded my arms with an eyebrow raised.

"Loud and clear." He raised his arms, his lips twitching and struggling to contain a grin.

~~~~~

By evening, the storm had transformed the estate into an isolated, snowbound fortress.

I set a table in the grand dining hall before the massive fireplace with Malakor at the other end. It was a surreal sight: two immortal predators sitting at opposite ends of a long, polished table, separated by silver candelabras and a bitter truce.

"Tell me about the shadow-rot," I said, swirling a glass of dark vintage wine. "That magic is ancient and forbidden. Who gave it to your brother?"

Malakor set his glass down, his golden eyes reflecting the flicker of the hearth fire. His arrogant posture relaxed slightly, revealing the exhaustion that still lingered beneath his deadly exterior.

"A rogue necromancer from the Obsidian Waste," he said. "My brother, Vane, couldn't beat me in honorable combat for the throne. So he bought a blade dipped in shadow-rot and struck me from behind during the High Council meeting."

"What a cowardly act." A sharp prickle of disgust hit my chest.

"Indeed." Malakor smiled grimly. "But it was effective, all the same. It tore through my guards. I had to butcher three of my own lieutenants just to break out of the citadel. I rode for three days with dark magic rotting my flesh, knowing that my only chance was a fairy tale about a lethal witch living in the icy peaks."

"I see." I traced the rim of the glass in an absent minded manner.

He looked at me then—really looked at me. The harsh candlelight carved sharp shadows into his high cheekbones and powerful jaw.

"They call you a monster, Belladonna," he said quietly. "A cursed creature whose touch is death."

"Is that not what I am?" I retorted. "You felt my blood. It burns."

"It saved my life." He shook his head, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table.

The distance between was seemingly narrowed by his gaze, but yet I found it hard to look away.

"I mean it did hurt like damnation." He shrugged casually. "But it's the only thing that has made me feel truly alive in three hundred years."

The tension in the room shifted instantly. The storm outside howled against the glass, but inside, the air was suddenly charged with a strange bolt of electrical energy.

"Do not mistake a cure for a bond," I warned, hoping to Lilith that he would not detect my heart traitorously skipping a beat.

"I don't make mistakes." His eyes dropped to my lips. "And right now, locked in this castle with the storm raging outside, I'm realizing that the venom in your veins isn't the most dangerous thing about you."