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February 7 - February 11, 2025
“I’m honored you think of me as competition,” said Maeve in a bored tone, “given that you have an absurdly high opinion of yourself.”
Nothing that powerful had ever come from her. Two fingers. She had used two fingers. “Finally,” said Mal calmly with a hint of annoyance. “Congratulations. You’re a Supreme, Maeve.”
“I have no intention of letting my life be decided for me,” said Maeve darkly. It was small, but Maeve could have sworn a smile pulled up at the corner of Mal’s lips. “I would expect nothing less from a Supreme.”
“My apologies, Grisham, I didn’t realize I needed to present you with my qualifications when I arrived tonight.” Maeve looked around at the others. “Did anyone else forget? No? Just me then.” An icy quality began seeping into her otherwise delicate voice. Mal folded his hands in his lap and leaned back joyfully as he watched Grisham’s expression. “But since you’re so curious,” said Maeve. “I’m at this table tonight because I have performed at an Elite level for years, in multiple subjects. And recently, A Supreme level. I score at the top of the school consistently and am incredibly dedicated
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Mal sat like a chiseled statue next to her; only after a moment passed and regular conversation had resumed did she feel his slender fingers enclose around her own under the table.
“Magic calls to magic. Darkness calls to darkness. Blood calls to blood.” Mal considered this for a moment. “Like calls to like,” he repeated, his eyes on her.
He sighed. “You shouldn’t be separated,” he muttered gravely.
“I imagine worse things are said about me, and will continue to be.” Mal looked back down at her as she dropped her hands. “Not if they don’t have tongues.”
“I don’t think I quite understood the meaning of your presence until I was forced to endure your absence.”
“You have no idea do you,” he whispered. “No idea what lies waiting inside of you.” His hand traced along her jawline. “I will show you.”
“It’s as though I’ve been suffocating and you are-” “The very air I need to breathe.” Maeve nodded and a small laugh of relief escaped her lips. “Like calls to like.”
“She is my second. When I am crowned as The Dread Prince she will be the rock against which the waves crash. The mountain standing against the storm. Everyone must know now that she is something to be feared.” He turned his attention back to Mumford. “Even you fear her.”
“And if I asked of you to refrain from your opinions of disappointment?” Questioned Mal.
“Let me make something clear, Primrose Rosethorn. If you ever speak of my second again in such a vulgar and disrespectful way I will ensure your right to The Dread Lands is denied. And anyone with your blood as well. Save for Abraxas, who luckily did not inherit your lack of poise. I will see to it personally that you are abandoned here of Earth, with not a scrap of clothing to your name.” Magic snapped taunt between them. He was serious.
Mal looked down at her, tucked a loose strand of hair back into one of her braids and whispered, “Yes, Little Viper.”
“Abraxas, this is the High Lord of Aterna, the Shadow Slayer, and Senshi Warrior. High Lord, Shadow Slayer and Senshi Warrior, this is my cousin Abraxas.” Reeve eyed her humorously. “You honor me, little kitten.”
“I’m going to kill them all.” Mal brushed his free hand across her quivering bottom lip. “No, Little Viper. We are going to kill them all.”
