Page 17 of Hair, She Bears
“I could sit beside you.”
“You could, but I like your current position.” Grinning, he leaned his forehead against hers. His lips lingered a millimeter away from hers, their tantalizing heat teasing her mouth.
“What if I wanted to kiss you?” Sliding her hands up his chest, Zenna wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down.
Malik touched his mouth to hers, his tongue pushing past her lips. Her stomach clenched, tightening with expectation. Sliding his hands down her back, he grabbed her hips, jerking her against him, and guided her body into a rocking rhythm, the heat flaring between them.
“Can you do that thing to me again?” She panted against his mouth, her fingers digging through his hair.
“The thing that made you scream?” His hands cupped her butt, grinding his hips into her.
“Mmm,” was all she could manage. Her head tipped back as the coil in her stomach wound tighter. She pushed herself against Malik, craving release.
“Malik!”
Their heads ripped apart, and Zenna found herself sitting on the cold stone floor. Malik, on his feet beside her, slowly lowered his fists and glanced down.
“It came from outside.”
“What is the point of him having a mirror if he never answers my call?” Mother’s rage-filled voice rose from the courtyard.
“A mirror?” Zenna asked, mouthing the words.
Malik dug into his pocket and extracted a small silver disk. He dropped beside her and held it out. It glowed.
“This is how we communicate. When I open it, the person on the other side can see and hear me.”
“What happens if you don’t open it?”
“It irritates my father.”
She climbed to her knees and peered out the window. The last dregs of afternoon highlighted the back of Mother’s head, glinting off his dark hair and giving him a surreal reddish glow. He stood without aid—a testament to the power of Votras Alute—in the center of the compound, surrounded by four men of similar surly attitude.
“Jax, find out if Malik made it back to his territory,” Mother addressed the stout man to his right.
“Did he have an escort?” Jax asked.
“Why would he need one?” Mother scoffed. “He’s my son.”
“His saddlebags are loaded with Votras Alute.” The other men in the group nodded their heads in concordance. “Several couriers have been attacked in the past few weeks. People are getting desperate.”
“No one is foolish enough to touch Malik.” Mother fiddled with the silver object in the palm of his hand, and the disc in Malik’s hand glowed again.
“He’s going to be really angry when he discovers you’re in the tower.” Zenna glanced at him.
“He won’t.” Malik thumbed at himself. “Knowing me, I probably stopped at a bar.”
“And started a fight?”
Malik grinned. “That sounds like me.”
The glow faded from Malik’s closed mirror, and a flurry of curses followed.
“I want answers… now!” Mother’s anger permeated the tower.
“I’ll find him,” Jax replied.
“Carlyle—”
