[Malachi's POV]
The silence inside the vehicle was a living thing, broken only by Elara's ragged, suppressed breaths. They were like the frantic beat of a trapped bird's wings against my ear.
A strange, intoxicating scent filled the air. It was hers, a heady mix of her own cool moonlight and the sweet, cloying heat drawn out by the Wolfsbane. The aroma coiled into my lungs, making my own blood run a fraction faster.
Interesting.
My fingers were still wrapped around her wrist. Her skin was a furnace, burning like a live coal. I could feel the delicate veins beneath, pulsing with a scorching, frantic life that transmitted itself, beat by beat, into my fingertips.
My own body temperature had always been unnaturally low. Her heat was a novel, vibrant sensation.
"Take me… to the Temple," she managed to say, her voice a raw, broken whisper, trembling with the effort of her restraint.
Her eyes were screwed shut, her long lashes fluttering like moth wings against her flushed cheeks. She didn't dare look at me.
I knew why.
Under the influence of Wolfsbane, any powerful life force was a fatal lure. And I, a Lycan, was the ultimate source of that power on this continent. To her senses right now, I was likely more irresistible than the sweetest honey.
"The Temple?" I repeated, my tone unreadable. My thumb stroked the racing pulse point on her wrist, feeling it accelerate. "That would be too slow."
Her eyes flew open. The drug had clouded their usual icy clarity with a watery sheen, making her look both wary and devastatingly vulnerable.
"Instead of the Temple, wouldn't a direct antidote be more efficient?" I asked, my voice as casual as if I were suggesting a shortcut.
"Antidote?" She froze, her breath catching in her throat.
I leaned closer, the sweet, hot scent of her intensifying, wrapping around me like an invisible net.
"I could be your antidote. What do you say, Miss Elara?"
My voice was perfectly calm, as if I were commenting on the weather.
But the words were a thunderclap in the confined space.
Elara choked, a violent coughing fit seized her. "Cough… cough… you…"
Her dazed eyes were wide with a shock so profound it was as if I'd just suggested the moon might fall from the sky.
The driver's hands jerked on the wheel, sending the vehicle into a dangerous swerve. Even Alfred's eternally placid face cracked. I saw his eyes in the rearview mirror, wide with an expression of pure, unadulterated shock.
I knew what they were thinking. They believed that I, Malachi, the Lycan King, had absolutely no interest in any female of any species.
Once, a noble lady had threatened to throw herself from a tower if she could not have my love.
I had calmly told her, "Then by all means, die."
Then I had personally dragged her to the edge and asked, "Do you require assistance?"
No one had ever tried such a foolish tactic with me again. They called me a block of ice that would never melt, a stone with no heart.
But now, I was offering my own body to a woman.
"When you say… antidote…" Elara finally managed, her voice hoarse, "you mean… using your body… to cure the poison?"
"Yes. That is precisely what I mean." My admission was swift and clean.
I ignored the petrified expressions of the two men in the front, leaning in again until my lips were almost brushing her ear. I could see the fine, delicate veins under her skin, feel the heat of her every exhale against my cheek.
"This body of mine… is quite effective, I'm told," I murmured, my voice a low, seductive purr. "Pure Lycan blood. An exceptionally vigorous life force. It is remarkably efficient at purging low-grade toxins like Wolfsbane."
I continued, my voice dropping even lower. "As a bonus, it would also strengthen your own constitution. There is even a small chance it could awaken the latent power in your bloodline."
"If Miss Elara is in need," I paused, my eyes lingering on her slightly parted, crimson lips, "she may use it at her leisure."
"…" She was utterly speechless, likely having never witnessed someone market their own body like a rare commodity.
"No, thank you," she finally found her voice, forcing the words out. "I do not need it."
"Are you certain?" My breath ghosted over the sensitive shell of her ear, and I watched it flush a delectable shade of pink. My fingers, of their own accord, began a slow, deliberate journey up her searingly hot arm.
I felt her tremble uncontrollably at my touch.
My cool aura was a torment to her—a promise of relief her body craved even as her mind fought to resist. The battle played out in her gaze, in the way her pupils dilated even as she clenched her jaw. Her instincts screamed for her to pull me closer, to drink in my powerful life force. But her formidable will was a shield, commanding her to push me away.
The conflict made her look like a stubborn, fragile cub.
It was… adorable.
Just as I thought she was about to succumb to instinct, she did something completely unexpected.
Her hand shot out, her fingers locking with surprising precision onto the pressure point on my wrist. Her grip was weak, her fingers trembling from the drug, but her resolve was a palpable force against my skin.
"I only require you to take me to the Temple!" she hissed, her tear-bright eyes burning with an unyielding fire.
Her body was a furnace of need, but her gaze was as clear and cold as a frozen lake.
In that instant, my heart, for the first time in memory, skipped a beat.
Then it began to hammer against my ribs with a ferocity I had never known.
Something… had shifted.
I stared at her, at those defiant eyes, completely captivated.
After a long moment, just as Alfred was bracing for my inevitable wrath, a slow smile spread across my face. It was genuine, tinged with a predatory delight.
"Very well."
I released her wrist and leaned back into the seat.
"To the Temple it is."
The vehicle resumed its smooth, steady course. Elara let out a shaky breath and sagged against the window, closing her eyes as she continued her silent war against the poison.
My gaze never left her.
Just then, her communication crystal, lying on the seat beside her, lit up.
I picked it up.
The caller ID read: Kaelen.
Hah.
I accepted the connection.
"Elara?" A man's urgent, worried voice came through the crystal.
"She's unavailable at the moment," I said coolly.
There was a pause on the other end, then a sharp, suspicious tone. "Who is this? Where is Elara?"
"You were looking for her?" I toyed with the crystal, my voice laced with a lazy indifference. "This is Malachi."
"Malachi?" Kaelen's voice went taut with alarm. "Why do you have Elara's crystal?"
I glanced at the woman beside me, her breathing now fast and shallow, and a cruel, possessive smile touched my lips.
"Oh. She's sleeping."
"Do you have a message? I can pass it along when she wakes."
The moment the words left my mouth, I could practically feel the wave of raw, acidic jealousy trying to burn its way through the crystal. I imagined Kaelen Blackwood, that foolish Alpha, feeling as if he'd been struck by lightning, his inner wolf howling in agony.
But the truly delicious part was that our mate bond would be transmitting my own state of perfect calm to him. The contradiction would be exquisite torture.
I didn't give him a chance to reply. I simply ended the connection.
Then, I looked out the window.
The high spires of the Temple were visible in the distance.
"Alfred," I said, my voice low, "I trust you have already sent your instructions to the Temple acolytes."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Alfred replied respectfully. "I have arranged for the highest-grade healing chamber to be prepared and for the surrounding area to be cleared of all personnel."
"Good."
I turned my head and looked at the woman now curled in an unconscious ball on the seat, lost to the fever.
Elara Silvermoon.
You are far more interesting than I ever imagined.