Wicked in Your Arms (Forgotten Princesses #1)(65)

Chapter Twenty-five

When Grier woke she wasn’t certain she was not in fact still sleeping. Trapped in darkness, she considered that maybe she dreamed, caught in some state between sleep and waking, the air as deep and pulsing as a night in the thickest woods.

She shivered as the cold penetrated her consciousness. The icy wet saturated her bones and she knew this was no dream.

Memory flooded her. She saw Malcolm’s face, remembered his cruel hands, the sting of his slap on her face.

Blinking, she peered into the penetrating dark. It seemed lighter to her left. She listened hard, trying to glean something about her surroundings. Nothing. The silence was deafening. That ruled out Town. Even in her room at night the sounds of life in the city prevailed, a living, breathing thing all around her. Wherever she was the air was still, dormant.

Wincing at the throbbing pain in her head, she pushed up with her hands. Grit and dirt scraped her palms. The floorboards creaked beneath the pressure.

Footsteps suddenly sounded. She froze, considering dropping back down and feigning sleep, but the door slammed open. Light flooded the small room. It was too late. Malcolm stood on the threshold, gazing down at her.

“You’re awake. I began to wonder if maybe I’d hit you too hard.”

Grier rose to a sitting position. “Why are you doing this?

“Because you can’t marry Sev,” he snapped, stepping deeper into the room.

“Why not?” Her gaze moved beyond him, calculating her chances of making it past him.

“No one can. At least not until our grandfather is dead.”

Grier pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. “I don’t understand.”

“Did Sev not tell you about me? That I’m the black sheep of the family? Or at least my father was. My grandfather banished my father, humiliated and shamed my parents—me.” He gestured wildly and paced the room. “That old bastard wants the satisfaction of seeing Sev married before he dies? He would like to go to his final rest knowing the Maksimi line is secured? Well, he shall not have such peace. I’ve waited years to make that old man suffer. I’ll make bloody hell certain of that.”

Grier moistened her lips, quite convinced she was in the hands of a madman. He would thwart Sev’s matrimonial goals for the sake of disappointing their grandfather. No. She doubted he’d stop there. He was too obsessed with devastating the king. She wouldn’t put it past him to try and destroy Sev. He was simply warming up with her. She doubted he would ever let Sev return to Maldania alive.

“But weren’t you encouraging Sev to court Lady Libbie?”

“Of course. Because I knew it would go nowhere.” The light from the main room cast one side of his face into relief while the other side stayed hidden in shadow. “I’d heard rumors. Servants talk. I knew she was sneaking about with her father’s groom. I didn’t anticipate she would run away with him quite so soon, however.”

Grier shook her head and then stopped at the sudden lancing pain.

Malcolm continued, his voice taking on an accusatory whine. “You weren’t even to be considered.”

She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, glad that the motion didn’t make her feel instantly ill. “What do you intend to do with me then?” she demanded. “Hide me away until your grandfather finally expires?”

Malcolm crossed his arms, the motion as petulant as a child. “I hadn’t quite thought as far as that. I was simply determined to keep you from sailing for Maldania.”

Grier nodded and edged closer to the door. The fact that he hadn’t yet decided what to do with her didn’t bode well. She didn’t intend to stick around waiting for him to make up his mind.

Although he hadn’t said it, it was there, a dark shadow lurking in the back of her mind. He could simply kill her to be rid of her.

No one would ever know the truth. Her disappearance would forever be a mystery. She would simply have vanished.

Sev would never know. Not what happened to her. Not that she loved him. Her stomach lurched sickly.

She watched Malcolm, her chest tightening almost painfully. She shoved tangled strands of hair from her face and took a bracing breath.

He paced the room, tugging at the ends of his hair as if he might tug free a solution from that mad mind of his. Every once in a while he’d shoot her a measuring glance, seemingly unaware that she had been moving at a cautious, crawling pace toward the door, her fingers twitching at her sides as her nerves snapped and trembled throughout her.

“I can’t believe Sev actually decided to marry you! This shouldn’t have happened.” He sliced the murky air angrily with one hand. “He’s the bloody crown prince and he should damn well act like it!”

She couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she inched closer yet toward the door leading into the well-lit room from which he’d emerged.

“You’ve bewitched him! Snared him in your woman’s web . . . just like that whore who tempted my father so many years ago and then cried rape after he took what she offered!” His eyes glittered with a frightening faraway light and Grier swallowed against the sudden bitter taste in her throat. “I should take you myself . . . see what the great allure of you is.”

She stiffened, her pulse spiking into a feverish rhythm against the flesh of her throat. Her every muscle tensed, bracing for an attack.