Page 93 of Malice
Glancing around the cozy space, I took in everything there was to see. And by everything, I meanteverything. The stone walls were lined with shelves, and dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling beams. Everywhere I looked, there were crystals, half-melted candles, pots, and vials. It was cottagecore chic, and I was more than a little jealous.
“You’re living my bog witch fantasy, Christian.”
He chuckled. “Comes with the territory, I’m afraid. Though I supposed if I lived among a coven, the herbs and other spell materials wouldn’t be kept in my house.”
“I guess kitchen witch is more apt, now that I think of it.”
“I accept. Now, please have a seat. I’ll make us some tea. I was just about to prepare some for myself, and I much prefer not to drink alone.”
I sat in the overstuffed armchair that was positioned near the hearth, watching as he moved around the tiny but clean kitchen. While the cottage was crammed full of his belongings and supplies, there wasn’t a speck of dirt or actual clutter. Everything clearly had a place.
“So how are you holding up, mademoiselle?” he called over his shoulder as he pulled two teacups out of a cupboard.
Sighing, I considered exactly how much information I should give him. Probably nothing, but he was as in this as anyone else.
“It’s not great. Especially after the ward thing. I really messed up when I fell through.”
He shook his head as he filled the kettle with water and then began heating it. “That wasn’t your fault. If anyone should be upset, it’s me. I sent you on that mission.”
“And I was the clumsy idiot who triggered a mudslide.” I waved my hand in dismissal. “It’s fine. But the worry I caused them, then the attack... it just brought all of this forward about a million steps. Time is of the essence, and I’m frustrated.”
He shot me an inquisitive glance. “Frustrated? That’s an interesting word choice.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, I could understand if you were to say you felt anxious or scared. The world is on the brink of collapse, so those both make sense. But frustrated? That does not seem to fit the situation.”
Well, when he put it that way, the man might have a point.
“Trust me. It does. You just don’t have all the puzzle pieces.”
Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he let my words sink in. “And... are you willing to give me any of them?”
“I’m not sure I can.”
The kettle whistled, pulling his attention from me and breaking the tense moment. He turned away and prepared our tea with a practiced grace. I wasn’t sure if Christian was going to push the issue of this conversation or if he’d let it go, and honestly, I didn’t know which one I wanted. Carrying this around was weighing on me, and the horsemen were so close to all of it I couldn’t really unburden myself to them.
Handing me a delicate cup and saucer before he sat across from me with his own, he offered a sympathetic smile. “Does this have anything to do with what I shared with you earlier? About their... contest?”
With everything that happened in the last week, I’d almost forgotten Christian was the one who spilled the beans. He’d risked a lot to tell me what he’d overheard. Just because I couldn’t tell him everything didn’t mean I couldn’t trust him at all.
“Yes,” I said, eyeing him over my cup as I blew on the steamy surface.
“I see. So you are a willing participant now?”
I blushed. “You could say that.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’m worried none of them will be successful.”
“What a curious time to want to get with child.”
He wasn’t wrong. But only because he didn’t understand the finer points of my situation.
I took a sip of my tea and then set down my cup, hands clasped in my lap as I lifted my gaze back to his. “It’s extremely important that I get pregnant, Christian. I can’t tell you why, but I need you to trust me on this.”
A series of emotions washed across his face. First curiosity, then concern, and finally a somberness I was certain matched my own.
