Elysia knew Malvoria was playing with her, taunting her, and that only made her more irritated. The smugness in those grey eyes, the barely hidden amusent in the way she leaned in so casually, so infuriatingly confident. Ugh.
Elysia scowled, tilting her chin up defiantly, even though her heart was pounding so loudly she was convinced Malvoria could hear it.
"Yes, I have feelings for you," she snapped. "Feelings of hate."
Malvoria blinked. Then she chuckled. A slow, deep laugh that sent a shiver down Elysia's spine—one that she imdiately ignored.
"Hate?" Malvoria drawled, stepping even closer, completely invading Elysia's space. "Really, now?"
"Yes," Elysia huffed, crossing her arms tightly, willing herself to stay composed. "A deep, burning, passionate hatred."
Malvoria smirked. "Passionate, you say?"
Elysia froze for half a second before groaning. "That's not what I ant!"
Malvoria, the absolute nace that she was, simply gave her a slow, knowing look. "But that is what you said, wife."
Elysia resisted the urge to stomp her foot. "Stop calling that!"
Malvoria let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "What else should I call you, then? Hateful, adorable, passionate—"
"I hate you," Elysia growled, pointing an accusing finger at her.
"And yet," Malvoria mused, tilting her head, "you keep touching . You keep kissing . You keep looking at like you want sothing."
"I want you to leave alone!"
Malvoria smirked, unbothered, as if this entire conversation was a ga she was thoroughly enjoying.
"Liar."
Elysia gaped at her, indignant. "Excuse ?"
Malvoria shrugged. "You say you hate , and yet, every ti I get close—" She reached out, her fingers just barely brushing against Elysia's wrist, sending a wave of heat rushing up her arm. "—you never pull away."
Elysia yanked her hand back imdiately, her face heating. "I—That—That doesn't an anything!"
Malvoria made a hum of amusent. "Doesn't it?"
Elysia was this close to throwing sothing at her.
But then Malvoria took another step forward—too close—and before Elysia could react, she moved.
In a blink, Malvoria's hands were on her shoulders, and Elysia found herself being pinned against the nearest wall.
Her breath caught, her entire body tensing as Malvoria leaned in, her grey eyes dark and piercing, focused solely on her.
Malvoria lowered her voice, her lips barely inches away from Elysia's ear.
"So," she murmured, slow and deliberate, "why does your heart beat faster right this mont?"
Elysia hated this.
She hated how her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was sure Malvoria could hear it.
She hated the smug amusent on the Demon Queen's face as she lood over her, as if she had already won so unspoken battle between them.
She hated the heat spreading over her skin, the way her breath hitched when Malvoria leaned in just a fraction closer, the way her body betrayed her by tensing—but not in fear.
No, that was the worst part.
She wasn't afraid.
Not of Malvoria. Not of her strength, not of her power, not even of the way she so easily overwheld every part of Elysia's senses.
What scared her was the way she reacted to her.
The way her body wanted to react to her.
Elysia clenched her jaw, forcing herself to breathe evenly, to not give Malvoria the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.
But it was too late—she knew it, Malvoria knew it. The slow, wicked curve of her lips, the slight tilt of her head as if she were listening to sothing—
Oh gods.
She was.
"You hear it, don't you?" Elysia muttered, mortified, her voice barely above a whisper.
Malvoria's smirk widened slightly, her grey eyes gleaming. "Loud and clear."
Elysia groaned, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground and vanish forever.
It wasn't fair. Malvoria was standing so casually close, like she wasn't even trying, like she wasn't actively ruining Elysia's life just by existing.
The warmth of her hands on Elysia's shoulders was almost scalding, and yet, she didn't push her away.
She should.
She should shove Malvoria back, snap at her, tell her to stop playing these stupid gas—
But she didn't.
And she had no idea why.
Malvoria humd, tilting her head slightly, her gaze never leaving Elysia's. "You know," she mused, her voice slow and deliberate, "for soone who hates so much, you're very bad at pretending."
Elysia gasped in offense. "Excuse ?"
Malvoria chuckled, the sound low and smooth, and Elysia felt it more than she heard it.
"You're just full of contradictions, aren't you?" Malvoria murmured, her thumb brushing absently over the fabric of Elysia's sleeve. "You glare at like you despise , and yet, here you are."
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.
"You let kiss you."
Elysia's face burned. "That doesn't an anything!"
Malvoria raised a brow. "Three tis?"
Elysia groaned. "I hate you."
Malvoria chuckled again, but this ti, it was softer. Amused, yes, but sothing else too. Sothing Elysia couldn't quite na.
"And yet," Malvoria said, "your heart is still racing."
Elysia stiffened. She hated how easily Malvoria could see through her.
She needed to fix this.
She couldn't let Malvoria think she had any power over her.
Summoning every last ounce of her pride, Elysia lifted her chin and glared up at Malvoria, trying to ignore the way her pulse was still hamring against her ribs. "I just—I have a very healthy heart, okay?!"
Malvoria snorted. Actually snorted.
Elysia scowled. "Shut up!"
Malvoria only grinned wider. "Healthy, you say?"
"Yes!"
Malvoria leaned in again, her lips re inches from Elysia's ear.
"Then let's test that," she whispered.
Elysia barely had ti to process the words before Malvoria moved.
In a blink, her hand shifted from Elysia's shoulder to the curve of her waist, her fingers pressing lightly but firmly. A teasing touch, barely there, but it sent a shock of heat through Elysia's body so fast it made her dizzy.
Her heart slamd against her ribs.
Malvoria grinned.
Elysia hated her.
She hated her so much.
She hated—
She shoved her back.
Not hard, not enough to actually make her move, but just enough to remind Malvoria that she wasn't going to let her win.
Malvoria didn't look like she had lost, though. Not even remotely.
If anything, she looked... satisfied.
Like she was enjoying this.
Elysia's hands balled into fists. "You are insufferable."
Malvoria smirked. "And you," she said, voice slow and smooth, "are very, very bad at lying."
Elysia's breath caught.
Damn her.
Damn her entirely.
She needed to get away from her. Now.
Before she did sothing stupid.
Like kiss her again.
Malvoria sighed, stepping back just slightly—just enough to let Elysia breathe, though her presence still lingered in the air between them.
Then, she exhaled, tilting her head slightly, and said—
"Let's start over, then."
Elysia stared at Malvoria like she had just grown a second head.
"Start over?" she repeated, her voice slow, cautious, and laced with suspicion.
Malvoria, ever the enigma, only tilted her head slightly, watching her with unreadable gray eyes. "Yes," she said, tone maddeningly casual. "If we're going to keep doing this dance, we might as well do it properly."
Elysia blinked. Then blinked again.
"Doing what properly?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Malvoria didn't answer imdiately. Instead, she lifted a hand, brushing a stray silver strand of hair from Elysia's cheek with a featherlight touch, and said—
"Let's start with introductions."
Elysia froze.
Then frowned.
Then scowled.
"Introductions?" she echoed.
Malvoria nodded, looking entirely too amused.
Elysia glared. "You already know who I am."
"Do I?" Malvoria mused, her lips twitching. "Because I seem to recall marrying a princess who hated ." She arched a brow. "And yet here you are, kissing three tis, letting touch you, reacting to like this—"
"Shut up!" Elysia snapped, her entire face burning.
Malvoria only smirked.
"Alright then," she said smoothly, stepping back just a little and folding her arms over her chest. "I'll start."
She cleared her throat dramatically.
"I," she said, in a slow, teasing drawl, "am Malvoria. Twenty-eight years old. Ruler of the Demon Realm. Excellent fighter. Very good at winning wars. Not very patient. Also—" her smirk deepened "—a very good kisser, apparently."
Elysia nearly choked. "MALVORIA!"
Malvoria only laughed, clearly pleased with herself.
Elysia glared daggers at her, inhaling deeply to not let herself get completely unhinged.
"Fine," she muttered, straightening her back. "You want an introduction? Here." She exhaled sharply. "I'm Elysia. Twenty-four years old—" she emphasized, "—and not old."
Malvoria's smirk didn't falter.
"Ah, so I am old?"
Elysia grinned, purely out of spite. "Very."
Malvoria's eye twitched.
"Careful, princess," she murmured, voice dipping lower. "You are married to this 'old' woman."
Elysia's smirk faltered imdiately.
Malvoria grinned.
She walked right into that.
Damn it.
Still, she refused to let Malvoria win.
Crossing her arms, Elysia lifted her chin. "So? You're still old."
Malvoria let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. "Wounded," she muttered dramatically. "Truly wounded."
Elysia rolled her eyes. "You'll survive."
Malvoria chuckled, then tilted her head slightly, extending a hand between them.
"So then," she said, her smirk softening just a little, voice dipping into sothing that wasn't quite teasing anymore.
"Nice to et you."
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