Waking up to my sin

Chapter 3: The Golden Cage

​The gates to Malakai’s estate didn't just close behind us; they sealed with a heavy, metallic thud that signaled the end of my life as a normal girl. As the SUV wound up the long, gravel driveway, the estate came into view—a massive, gothic structure of black stone and glass, perched on a cliffside overlooking the crashing waves of the Newtown coast.

​It was beautiful. It was terrifying. It was exactly like him.

​Malakai parked the car and killed the engine. The silence was absolute, save for the sound of my own frantic breathing. He didn't move immediately. He sat there, his large hands still gripping the wheel, his silhouette dark against the moonlight.

​"This is it, Leona," he said, his voice dropping to a velvety, dangerous register. "Once you step through those doors, the High Council can’t help you. Betty can’t find you. You belong to the shadows. You belong to me."

​He climbed out and walked around to my side, opening the door before I could even reach for the handle. He didn't offer a hand; he reached in and pulled me out by my waist, lifting me effortlessly as if I weighed nothing. My red silk dress bunched up, my skin heating everywhere his calloused fingers touched.

​He carried me up the wide stone steps. His men—silent, lethal-looking soldiers in black—bowed their heads as he passed. He was their King, and I was the prize he had snatched from the jaws of a war.

​The interior of the house was "no joke." High vaulted ceilings, dark velvet furniture, and the smell of expensive bourbon and old books. It was a fortress built for a man who expected a "bloodbath" at any moment. But he didn't stop in the foyer. He carried me straight up the grand staircase and into a master suite that was larger than my mother’s entire apartment.

​He finally set me down in the center of a massive, dark-wood bedroom. The only light came from the fireplace, casting "furious" orange shadows across his tattooed face.

​"Go wash up," he commanded, his eyes roaming over me with an intensity that made my knees weak. "There are clothes in the dressing room. Silk. Lace. Everything a Queen needs."

​I took a step toward him, my heart pounding. "And what happens then, Malakai? You keep me here like a prisoner?"

​He took a step into my space, his shadow towering over me. He reached out, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw before sliding down to the hollow of my throat, where he could feel my pulse racing.

​"A prisoner?" He let out a low, dark chuckle that sent a shiver straight to my core. "No, Leona. A prisoner is someone you want to keep away. I want you close. I’m a 'dirty one,' remember? I’m obsessed. I’m going to spend every night making sure you forget the name of every other man who ever looked at you. I’m going to mark you until you’re a 'sin' that only I can forgive."

​He leaned down, his breath hot against my lips, but he didn't kiss me. Not yet. The "spark" between us was a physical ache now, a tension so thick it felt like it could snap the air.

​"I’ve waited years for this," he whispered, his voice cracking with a "furious" hunger. "Years of watching that 'b***h ass' mother of yours try to sell you off. Years of staying in the shadows while I wanted to burn the world down just to get to you. Now, you're here. And I'm never letting you go."

​He turned on his heel and walked toward the door, stopping only to look back over his shoulder. "Clean up, Princess. When I come back, I expect you to be ready to show me just how much you want to be mine."

​The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the firelight. I looked at the massive bed, then at the dressing room filled with the luxuries he had hand-picked for me. I was in a cage, yes—but as I caught my reflection in the mirror, seeing the flush on my cheeks and the hunger in my own eyes, I realized I was exactly where I wanted to be.

​The "bloodbath" was coming. The Council would be hunting us. But in this room, with Malakai, the only thing that mattered was the "sin" we were about to commit.