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Unknown Binding
His voice was velvet. “You are in the dead blooms of hydrangea in the gardens. Your scent lingers in my chamber bed. In the Entrance Hall, I taste blood, and I know it is yours. I know little of you, and yet I know that you are mine.”
“Mal,” she cried, unable to keep silent any longer. The words spilled from her lips like a broken and begging prayer, soft and defeated. “I’m so sorry.” Her words landed like a physical blow. Mal recoiled, his eyes closed sharply, and his face twisted in agony as his fist raised and slammed against the table. Magic rippled in multiple pulsing waves as he stood. Reeve kept them all from landing on himself and Maeve, pulling her flush against him at last. Mal’s arms raised, and he hunched violently over the table, palms slamming flat against the surface. His fingers retracted in torment, scraping as they clawed into the wood. His eyes were feral as he looked up at them.
Mal’s other hand joined at her face, trembling and cold knuckles brushed against her bruised and blood-smeared skin. “I love you, Little Viper. In another world, perhaps I will again.”
“Stop,” he said coolly. She obeyed, annoyed. “Show them you are not broken, even if you think you are, show them you are not. Show him, with those pretty lips and the gown you are pretending to hate, that he should desire you above all. Remind him it is you he should bow to.”
“I f**king hate this whole thing,” said Maeve, arms folded over her chest as she observed herself in the mirror.
“Yeah,” said Reeve with a controlled sigh behind her. “And you look hideous, too.”
His voice was smooth and dark. “I am still standing.” Her fingers shook against his cheek. “I will stand by you until the end.”