Wicked Saints (Something Dark and Holy #1) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,92
terrible things with her power if he had access to it. She wouldn’t be sitting here with bandages covering her body if not for Malachiasz.
“But he fled?” Nadya asked. If she pretended the one they were speaking of wasn’t sitting in front of them, listening in calm contemplation, maybe that would make this easier.
“He did,” Pelageya said. “But he came back. Do you think that is coincidence? That this clever boy and his clever magic have returned now?”
“Malachiasz?” Nadya said, her voice smaller than she would have liked, weaker. She willed him to look at her.
He looked different, sitting in the witch’s chair in a way that made it seem almost a throne. His black hair parted far on the right side, falling over his shoulder in inky waves, his pale eyes cold and blank. Less a boy, more a monster. Was that all he was? The silly boy who smiled too much and felt too deeply just a mask for the monster underneath?
Had she fallen for his lies exactly as he wanted her to?
He finally met her gaze, eyes softening, growing familiar. “It’s all right, towy d?imyka,” he said, voice soft.
It wasn’t. Not at all.
Pelageya laughed. “Is that supposed to make her feel better?” She stood up, walking around Malachiasz’s chair. “Is that supposed to earn her trust again?” She hooked a finger underneath his chin, forcing his gaze up to hers. She looked young. Nadya didn’t know when the shift had happened but knew the witch was a force of nature. A magic just as old and dangerous as either of them possessed, made worse by the wisdom of her years. “What have you done, Chelvyanik Sterevyani?” she whispered. “What will you still do? I don’t think love is such a force that it will stop you. I’m not sure you’re even capable of it.”
Nadya closed her eyes. Her breath hitched. She wasn’t going to cry, she was too scared for that, too deeply shattered. She wanted to, though. Cry like a village maid who’d had her heart broken, not a girl touched by the gods who fell for a monster and was devoured. This was her fault. She’d ignored the signs, ignored her goddess even. Now it was too late. Now they were here and her heart had been compromised and maybe this was a mistake, maybe he wasn’t lying at all, maybe he had changed, he would help them, and this was all just the witch trying to tear a rift between them that would ruin everything and hand the war to Tranavia.
“I just want to end what I started,” Malachiasz finally said.
Nadya felt her heart lift with hope but she quashed it. She wanted to trust him, desperately, but how could she?
Pelageya’s eyes narrowed. “How careful you are with words, Veshyen Yaliknevo.” Your Excellency.
“Don’t,” he said, pulling away from her touch.
“What?” she asked innocently. “I’m just giving you the respect you’re due. Would you prefer if I used your name?”
His jaw clenched.
“I thought so. Malachiasz Czechowicz. Such power in that name. It was wise of you to hide it from Tranavia, but then you gave it away in Kalyazin. I’m still puzzling over that, surely you knew what you were doing by that act. You have proven to be exceedingly clever.” She paused in thought, pulling a face of almost deranged glee. It was unsettling. “But, this isn’t just about you, Veshyen Yaliknevo. Chelvyanik Sterevyani. Sterevyani bolen.” She sat down on the arm of his chair and he shifted to the opposite side, as far from her as he could possibly get. “This is about the little scrap of divinity you’ve drawn to the depths of Tranavia.”
Nadya lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to let them see she was falling apart.
“She followed you a long, long way from home. What did you tell her to make her come so far without putting a blade in your back?”
“Of course, of course. Without cutting your throat, I should have said. Now that you point it out she does have the look of a girl who goes for—” She leaned over and tipped Malachiasz’s head back again, baring his throat. His fist clenched over the arm of the chair, nails now just long enough to be visible claws. “—sensitive flesh.”
Malachiasz inhaled sharply.
“I never told her anything that wasn’t true,” he said, voice carefully restrained.
Pelageya looked to Nadya. For what, confirmation? She shrugged.
“Apparently it was all in what he never bothered saying,