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Arya had bitten off more than she could chew. Revealing herself as his lover meant she had to attend every meeting, dinner and social event Malich deemed important. She had to be sociable, interact, and pretend as if her world wasn’t in tatters. And when she wasn’t parading herself around like a puppet on a string, putting on a show for Malich or acquiescing to his every whim, she was training. What she didn’t know at the time was Ihsan was preceptor of all new alumni with the mahogany beauty, Navi, as his second in command.
Ihsan rode her especially hard. Navi found pleasure in watching him do it too. Normally having Rayu, Lumi and Jax around would raise her spirits, but it didn’t. For the most part she kept to herself. It wasn’t like she had the time to socialize anyway. She was spread thin.
She rose before dawn and retired to her room beside Malich’s a little after sundown. Ihsan was relentless with her training, but no matter what he subjected her to, she never once complained. It earned her the respect of several of the seasoned alumni, but in order to cover up the bruises she got while training, Malich had to order her long sleeve dresses. She hated wearing dresses about as much as she hated wearing heels or socializing with the pompous, narcissistic, eternally entitled, egotistical royalty she was now subjected to on a daily basis.
Arya had the displeasure of meeting one of Kahlem’s wives, Sen. She and Kahlem were definitely made for each other. Both of them were serpents, only Sen thought the ring on her finger meant she was better than everyone else. She mocked Arya’s relationship with Malich to which Arya cleverly countered with her intelligence. She knew that as Queen Sen’s only responsibility was to be a beautiful fool, and she plucked that insecurity as often as Sen took jabs at both her and Malich.
Malich…
Although they spent most days together, she and Malich hadn’t spoken a word to each other. He bristled when she asked to take a room at the Alumni training facility, but he obliged. He was doing his best to respect her request for time and space, but she could see his patience was wearing thin. It had been at least a turn since they shared a bed, but she needed to figure things out. She needed to handle things with Ihsan but he still wouldn’t speak to her. He didn’t acknowledge her presence unless he had to.
Arya was forced to endure the embraces Ihsan and Navi shared on an almost consistent basis, the beatings she suffered at Navi’s hands, and the cold, painful indifference Ihsan showed towards her. He was punishing her.
“I can’t help but notice how distant you and my brother seem to be at the moment,” Kahlem startled her as she walked, more like limped, towards her bedroom. Her feet were killing her after being in heels for several hours. “Another lovers quarrel?”
“Something like that,” she replied. Arya was in no mood to trade whit with him. She wanted to soak in a tub and drown her sorrows in cheap ale.
“No offense, but what do you see in him?”
Here we go, Arya thought to herself. “He treats me well,” was all she said in return. It was another carefully veiled lie. And he saw right through it.
“Liar,” he laughed.
Sighing, Arya said, “It’s complicated.”
“A girl as beautiful as you are should be worshipped.”
“He worships me just fine.”
“Then perhaps it’s his performance that lacks.”
Kahlem was fishing for an in with her and wasn’t trying to hide it. “He’s not lacking there either,” she cast him a warm smile.
“Come on,” he poured on the charm, “Give me something.”
Arya thought on it before replying, “He betrayed my trust.”
“Ah,” he nods, “We men tend to do that at times, but if I may offer a word of advice…most men who do are not as haunted by their decision as my brother appears to be.”
Arya was surprised by his candor. She wondered if deep down inside him, he truly did love his brother to some degree. Perhaps he’s as driven for power as Malich and that whole stealing his lifething was just business. It would explain a lot.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she curtsied to him. It was a terrible curtsy and Kahlem laughed at her horrible attempt before executing a perfectly graceful curtsy of his own. “Show off.”
Kahlem seemed less of a serpent in that moment, but she knew better than to let her guard down. The royalty were all wolves…lying, conniving, power hungry wolves.
She turned down the corridor leading to Malich’s room, her heels clacking against the white Marble floors with specks of gray. The walls were also white…she hatedwhite. Being here was like being in an asylum and she was slowly losing her mind.
Arya pushed open the large, white, wooden double doors to Malich’s room and he stood shirtless at the foot of the bed. The sight of him made her pause. The muscled planes of his abs, his olive toned skin, the strong arms he’d used to hold her and, oh gods…the way his pants hung on his hips displaying enough of his abs, which came to a perfectly sculpted V that dipped below his pants, leading down…down…downto his ample endowment. She swallowed hard. In no way was she ready to share a bed mentally or emotionally, but physically she missed his touch.
She crossed the space leading to her bedroom. Malich had cleverly given her a room right off of his. A room she couldn’t get to without crossing through his. As she reached her bedroom door she felt the heat of his body mere moments before she felt it press against her from behind. His hand slid over hers, holding her bedroom door shut.
“I cannot take this,” he whispered into her ear, “It’s been more than a turn and I miss you.”
Aroused, Arya tried her damndest to silence the throbbing between her legs. Truthfully, she missed him too, but to give in now…no…she shook the thought away and pulled her hand from under his. “I’m not ready,” she told him.
“For Anan’s sake Arya, I don’t know how much longer I can continue to be a gentleman.”
She turned to face him, his icy blue eyes fixed on her lips. Carnal desire gleamed in his eyes as if Malich was already in the process of fucking her in his mind. She damn near buckled.
“He hates me,” she sulked.
Realizing the he she was speaking of, he reeled back. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about Ihsan in this moment, but she couldn’t help it. Moons of his cruel indifference had taken a toll on her. Tears formed in her eyes.
Malich stood before her, watching her cry, regretting the part he played in her being hurt. If given the chance he would do it again, but if he had the power to change anything, it would be how much it hurt her.
She leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, hugging her knees. He sat on the cold marble floor next to her and pulled her into his chest, cradling her in his arms. She knew it bothered him to comfort her, especially given the source of her sorrow, but she was grateful for his compassion.
For hours they sat on the cold marble floor in silence. Arya didn’t want to be alone. When she was alone with her thoughts she was tortured with the ‘what ifs’.
Footsteps outside the window to Malich’s window put an end to their quiet moment. They exchanged glances and then they both scrambled for their weapons. Arya quickly threw on her black pants, tunic, boots and red cloak. Malich entered her room while she sheathed her stilettos at her side.
“Kahlem?” She asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” he shrugged.
“Your aunt?”
“Safe,” he assured her, “Zahn watches over them.”
They peered into his bedroom and saw the double doors leading out to the terrace were wide open. Whoever it was, they were as quiet as a mouse. The singing of metal against the air caught Arya’s attention. She collided into Malich just in time to protect him from three throwing stars. She hadn’t seen where they came from but they were definitely not alone. Arya winnowed into the shadows of Malich’s bedroom, searching the darkness for the assassin. Either they were really good or they were no longer in the room.
Malich peered out from her bedroom and out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of moonlight on steel. She winnowed into the shadows where three more throwing stars had come from and standing before her was the source of those stars.
As she watched, Arya realized what she thought were shadows weren’t shadows at all. They were moving…retreating…from her.And she could feel this unknown assassin, deep…bone deep. Apparently the assassin could feel her too because he whirled around wielding a sword of his own, the shadows whipping wildly around him like tentacles.
Ducking one swing of the sword, Arya was met by another. Blow for blow they fought. First he would draw blood then Arya would return the favor, but she couldn’t get the upper hand. Neither of them could. And those shadows…what were they…what was he? She’d never seen anything like him.
The assassin’s shadows ripped the hood of Arya’s cloak from her head and the assassin was poised to strike, but he froze. His eyes went to her chest. She looked down and her medallions were dangling outside of her cloak.
That momentary glance down at her medallions could have cost Arya, but it appears the assassin was no longer interested in a fight. He knelt down on one knee, laying his weapons at his sides, drawing the shadows curling in front of him into a defensive position behind.
Arya thought maybe it was a joke, or a ploy to get her to let her guard down. She proceeded with caution.
Malich approached from behind, loudly she would add, but the assassin didn’t move. Malich turned on the lights with a flick of his fingers, took the butt of his sword, and made to knock the assassin unconscious but the shadows behind him sent Malich flying backwards across the room.
Arya’s eyes narrowed. Although he’d laid his weapons on the floor he was far from defenseless. The assassin’s shadows pulled the hood of the cloak from the assassin’s head and Arya gasped. It wasn’t a he at all…it was a she.
The assassin studied Arya’s face while Malich watched, looking for an in. He was back on his feet but he knew better than to go near the shadows now.
A part of Arya was drawn to the shadows, but her sentiment wasn’t shared. She took a small step toward the assassin and her shadows recoiled. Another small step and Arya could swear the shadows surrounding the female assassin were shrieking.
“What are you?” Arya asked.
Pulling the shadows completely inside her, and giving a warning over her shoulder to Malich, she lowered her head and held up her hands in surrender. “For now,” she spoke, “your prisoner.”
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