Page 22 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)
Chapter Twenty-Two
S ilence reigned. It wasn’t until I heard the murmurs and felt all eyes on me that I realized he had just said my name.
My name.
Princess Leida Ivar.
There was a rushing sound in my ears. I couldn’t have heard him right. It . . . it was Priya he was supposed to . . .
My arm was grabbed firmly, and I was being escorted up towards the dais. I glanced over to find Nilfren at my side, smiling at the faces of the astonished crowd as we passed. He shot me a look, and I finally remembered who and where I was. Though I was still half convinced I was dreaming. There was no way Malik—the King of Zehvi—had just announced that I was to be his betrothed. That he intended to marry me.
The queen looked stunned, and excitement filled Zara’s face as I passed her, and when I finally met Malik’s eyes and saw the look on his face, I knew.
He had done just that.
I burst into my chambers with my emotions in shambles and feeling like I couldn’t catch my breath. I just needed a moment. A moment to think, to breathe, and calmly consider what in the Nine Realms had just happened?
After Malik’s announcement, it had been nearly an hour of standing by his side and trying not to resemble a stunned statue, as I was forced to accept congratulation after congratulation. All the while masking the turmoil and confusion I was feeling inside. Some of the courtiers’ faces held genuine excitement, others' confusion, and still others barely concealed hostility or anger, but I had hardly taken any of it in. Too consumed with the fact that my life had just been turned on its axis with absolutely no warning.
He did try to warn you, part of my mind insisted, remembering when he had pulled me aside just before.
When I had finally managed to escape the assessing eyes of the court, I had come straight here, dodging Nilfren and Leif’s and even Zara’s questions as I went. I was nearly running by the time I reached the corridor, decorum and propriety be damned. I was so out of sorts that, for once, even my mother’s censuring voice couldn’t penetrate the fog.
Now I stood in the center of the room and tried to take stock of what had just happened. Malik Kathar—King of Zehvi—had just announced to the world that I was to be his betrothed. He intended to marry me . . . and one day . . . one day I would be his queen.
No. The refusal came hot and fast in my mind and would not settle. Then: How? How had this happened? I mean—I had known there was something between us. Our interaction in the garden last night was proof of that, and I suppose he had singled me out in public and in private on many occasions . . . but I had never thought—
My agitation was such that I found myself beginning to pace, and I had to force myself to stop. It struck me then that my maids were not here. My whirling mind latched onto the thought like a lifeline, and I glanced around.
Surely even if they had not been expecting me to return from the ball so soon, someone would have informed them, and they would have been here to attend me by now? But neither Hilde nor Astrid were here. The room was empty.
That was when I came to the second realization that there was something else different about my room.
All of my personal things were gone. My brushes and bottles of perfume were no longer laid out on the vanity, and my trunks no longer sat at the foot of my bed. Striding over to the wardrobe, I opened the doors and found no dresses hanging inside.
Where were all my belongings?
Before I could even begin contemplating who could have taken my things or why, the door burst open, and Malik strode in.
“Leida, we need to talk,” he stated without any preamble as he shut the door behind him. I just caught a glimpse of my guards standing outside as he did. I had been so upset that I hadn’t even realized they had followed me.
I took Malik in as he stood there in his armor and his crown, looking perfectly masculine and regal and not at all ruffled by what had just happened, and for some reason that made me even madder.
The sound that came out of my mouth was a mix between a disbelieving scoff and a harsh laugh. “Now you want to talk?” I asked coldly. “The time for talking is done, Malik. The time for talking would have been before you announced to the whole world that I was to be your wife.”
“I did try to speak with you, but you refused to hear me out.” His tone was laced with a hint of remorse.
But I didn’t want to hear it, not when so much anger and disbelief were near choking me with how hard I was fighting to hold them in. And I would hold it in. That’s what I did. I would not show this man how he had affected me.
So instead, I said, “Where are my things?”
I could tell I had surprised him with the abrupt change in topic, but he answered immediately.
“All of your belongings have been moved to my chambers, as that is where you will be staying from now on.”
“I can’t stay in your room.”
“You can and you will.”
“We are not yet married.”
“That makes little difference.”
I glared at him, but I was a little taken aback. “Of course it matters. Until we are joined in the eyes of the Nine, I will not share a room with you. I want my things placed back in here.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that. You are my intended bride now—my Hassai. The people will expect you to follow our traditions. In their eyes, we are as good as joined. Sleeping in separate rooms is not done,” he said, crossing his arms over his armor. “It would call into question the stability of our joining and we must present a united front.”
“My parents have had separate chambers for years,” I protested, “and no one questions the stability of the realm because of it.”
He cocked his head to the side and that amber stare took me in. “That is Halmar. This is Zehvi.”
I swallowed hard at his emphatic statement and decided to approach this from a different angle. “Why are you even doing this, Malik?” The question hung in the air between us, thick and expectant, but I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “You do not love me. So, why? Is this out of a sense of obligation? Is that why you did this? After . . . after last night, after what we did, you feel compelled to marry me?”
His face darkened. “First, siren, nothing and no one can compel me to do something I do not wish to do. So no, I did not make you my Hassai out of some misguided sense of duty.” He paused as if to drive that point home. “However, I would not have let last night happen if I had not intended to make you my Hassai and bind myself to you.”
His words echoed what he had said to me in the garden before we were interrupted. And before I could decide how I felt about it all, he continued.
“Last night, when I saw you in that gown. That was the moment I knew. The moment I could see you as my queen, not only as someone who intrigued and challenged me, but someone who could stand at my side and rule a kingdom with me.”
My pulse raced, and I found it hard to breathe at his confession.
“It was something I had known for a while, after you saved Zara and what you did for those people during the attack, but I resolved then and there that you would be mine. I wrote to your father last night and accepted his terms. I’m sure he will forgive the fact that I have already declared you my Hassai by the time he gets the missive, given the circumstances.”
My thoughts ground to a halt at his words. “Terms? What terms? You have been in discussions with my father?”
Malik nodded, his shrewd gaze taking in my sudden stillness. “Yes, we have been corresponding since before you came to Zehvi. Soon after my father died, your father wrote me proposing a marriage alliance between our kingdoms. I told him I would be seeking a wife from among my own people, and I thought that was the end of it.” He watched me closely as he added, “That was, until a few weeks later when you were sent to attend the Rites rather than your sister, who had originally been slated to attend.”
“My . . . sister,” I repeated softly. I sat hard on the bed, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me. “That was why he sent me,” I realized, hardly aware I had spoken aloud. This trip had never been about my father having confidence in my ability to represent Halmar. That had just been an excuse to get me here. My father had sent me to Zehvi to try to tempt Malik into an alliance, to parade me under his nose in the hopes that I might entice him into marriage. Put yourself in his path. I had wondered if that was the reason, but . . . having it confirmed. Now it all made sense. Helene had always been meant to be here, being the dutiful heir she was, until the man before me had told my father no. Then my father had hatched a plan of his own. Had my father been more aware and observant than I realized about how intrigued I was by Malik after his visit to Nevgard? Did he think there was a possibility Malik had felt something towards me as well, and so he had sent me instead? Or more likely, I was just the spare daughter he had finally found a use for.
Malik frowned and nodded. Then he continued speaking, unaware of my inner turmoil. “I guessed his intention was for you to seduce me and get me to change my mind. So imagine my surprise when you not only avoided my company altogether, but seemed to despise my very existence. It quickly became clear you had no notion of your father’s ulterior motives.”
No. I might have suspected, but I hadn’t known—because neither of them had seen fit to tell me anything.
Fury took hold of me then. “So you and my father decided. You decided my future— my life —and you didn’t think to ask or consult me?” I had always known I would most likely be married off for some political advantage on my father’s part, but I thought I was safe for the time being. But no, it turned out he had simply been maneuvering it all behind my back.
“I tried to tell you last night,” Malik said, “to ask you . . . before things got carried away.”
As he spoke, I vaguely recalled him trying to tell me something before . . . but then we had kissed, and I had gotten so wrapped up in the moment—in him—that I hadn’t remembered until now.
My mind was racing, and I was so angry that I latched onto another thought. “What about Priya?”
He stared at me. “What about her?”
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “Everyone thought you intended her to be your betrothed. You had to know they were all expecting it.”
He took a step closer to me. “I never had any intention of binding myself to Priya. She and I are friends, nothing more. And I do not care what the court expected. I do not want Priya or any other. I want you.”
His words and the look in his eyes sent a jolt through me, but I pushed it aside. “You tied yourself to me, decided to make me your queen because you want me? You expect me to believe you did this solely out of desire?”
His lip quirked. “You’re not listening, siren. I will not deny that my desire for you played a role in my decision.” He leaned close so our faces were inches apart. “I already know what you sound like as you find your pleasure, the little moans and sighs you make. And I have had the taste of you on my tongue, the taste of your mouth, and I crave to taste all the other parts of you as well. It drives me mad with wanting you. It is all I have been able to think about since last night. All I could think of today when I should have been focusing on everything else, but no, that is not my only reason.”
My heart pounded erratically in my chest. “Then why, Malik?” I demanded.
He searched my face. And at first, I thought he would not answer, but then he spoke. “The night of my father’s funeral, you were the only one whose company I desired. No one else’s.” His eyes burned into mine. And for a moment, I felt unmoored by his confession. The simplicity and vulnerability in the words surprised and disarmed me.
But then Malik pulled back, and the moment shattered. “I have other reasons,” he said, “but you are not ready to hear them. So, I will keep them to myself for now. You will see the wisdom in this one day.”
I had so many things I wished to say to him in response. Anger still boiled in my blood, but I held back. What was the point? What was done was done. My arguing would not change anything.
“Now,” Malik said, “it is late, and I am tired. Let us return to our rooms.”
Awareness pulsed through me at his use of the word our , which I immediately squashed. And my new resolve not to argue went right out the window. “I’m staying here, Malik.” I was proud of how calm and level my voice sounded.
“No, you are not,” he contradicted just as calmly. He moved to the door and opened it. “You are coming back with me. Even if I have to put you over my shoulder and carry you the whole way.”
I could see by the stern glare he had leveled at me that he meant it. Again, deciding it wasn’t worth the fight, I stiffened my spine and preceded him out the door.
He led the way down the now silent halls. Most of the guests had already sought their beds. In no time at all, we turned down a wing of the palace I had never been in before.
It was just as stately and exotically elegant as the rest of the palace. But, as we walked down another private corridor, passing two sets of Talonar on the way, I fought the sudden bout of nerves that assailed me as we stopped by an ornately decorated door.
I was going to be sharing a room with Malik. This was going to be fine , I calmly told myself.
When we entered the main suite after passing through an antechamber, I was immensely relieved and not at all surprised to see Astrid there, putting away what looked to be the last of my clothes in an intricately carved chest of drawers. She bowed as we entered. “Your Majesty.” She looked at me. “My lady.”
Malik nodded to her and then turned to me.
“I will leave you to prepare for bed.” He left without another word.
I watched him go, puzzled at the consideration of the gesture after he had been so firm about us sharing a room.
Astrid and I said nothing as she moved to pull the intricate pins and braids from my hair, though I could tell by her smile that she was incredibly pleased by tonight’s turn of events. I asked her to leave my hair in a looser braid down my back. I may have to share these chambers with him, but I was not ready for that step quite yet. Astrid helped me out of my gown. The night was warm, so I allowed her choice of a Zehvitian style nightdress. The back and arms were partially sheer, so I insisted on a robe as well. If I had a choice, Malik would never see my scars. I knew that wasn’t plausible, but I was going to delay it as long as I could.
Astrid turned down the bed before she left. I took one look at it and my irritation, and my nerves, got the better of me. Snatching a pillow from off the bed, I moved to a divan in a corner of the room and lay down on that instead. We might have to share a room, but we did not have to share a bed.
A few minutes later I heard a door open, and heavy footfalls entered what I guessed was the adjacent washroom. After a few moments, I heard them again as they grew closer, then stopped.
There was a beat of silence, and then a heavy sigh.
I pinched my eyes closed, praying he would simply go to bed and leave me be. I had rolled so my back was to the room, so I had no warning as I was hefted into a pair of massive arms and cradled against a warm naked chest.
I let out a very unladylike squawk. “Malik, put me down!”
“No,” was his effusive reply. “I am your Hassan, and you are my Hassai. Soon you will be my queen. You sleep with me.”
I was about to argue when he set me on my feet before the bed and reached for the ties of my robe.
“No!” I cried, pulling the knot back tight. “I’m—uh—I’m cold.”
Malik’s brow pinched in confusion, and he looked skeptical. His big hand came up to stroke my cheek as I glanced away, cheeks burning with the lie.
But once again, he surprised me. “All right, siren, the robe stays on.”
Deciding not to push my luck, I climbed into bed and moved as far from him and close to the edge as possible.
I should have known I wouldn’t get away with it.
He wrapped his ridiculously huge arm around me—it really was unfairly large—pulling my back to his bare chest. I was instantly very conscious of the fact that only a thin layer of fabric now separated my ugly scars from his perfect skin. I flinched and tried to move away, but he just held me tighter.
“Sleep, isholet ,” he commanded. And no doubt taking my sudden stiffness for something that it wasn’t, he assured, “Nothing will happen between us until you desire it. Though I am eager to show you all the pleasures that can be had between a man and a woman, I will wait until you are ready.”
“You’ll be waiting a long time,” I snapped, glaring into the darkness surrounding us.
A deep chuckle rumbled in my ear, and I also felt it against my back. The sensation was wholly unsettling and decidedly not pleasing.
“Deny this all you want, siren, if that is what you need to do,” he whispered in my ear. “But I will win you over, eventually. And the battle will be glorious until I do.”