Mischief (part 1)

Ravina's eyes widened and her steps slowed as she took in the scene in front of her. Now that the blood and dirt were gone from the prisoner's face, he looked… fine.

As she neared, he watched her with his warm coffee-colored eyes, framed by thick feathery brows, arched just the right amount. His face had a strong and clear bone structure that gave him a sharp look of dominance.

Her eyes couldn't bring themselves to look at his mouth so they dipped lower following the drips of water running from his obsidian hair and down his shoulders and torso. She already knew dragons had the most chiseled bodies so why was she looking now?

She could feel heat crawl to her face at his nakedness. He was only covered with a piece of white cloth around his private parts. The rest of his body was unclothed and glistened in the wet. His bronzed skin, now clean of dirt had a warm glow. He was suddenly unfamiliar to her eyes.

When she came to a halt she quickly forced her gaze up to look at his face. He stared at her with intense curiosity. Ravina's face flushed involuntarily, knowing that he caught her reaction to him.

"I didn't think you would keep your word." He spoke.

"I always keep my word." She said.

He continued to watch her in a way that made it seem like he was looking at her for the first time.

"I appreciate that." He said calmly.

She realized that his voice was deeper when he was calm and rich with something she couldn't define, but it reminded her of coffee beans, baked bread, chopped wood, and fireplaces. Of everything warm and brown, like him.

"I was wrong about you." He began.

Oh no. Not the nice act. He must know that she wouldn't fall for it.

"Red suits you." He said and she blinked confused. She wasn't wearing red. "On your face," he added with a faint smile and mischievous eyes.

Ravina felt her face grow a bright crimson again. This time because of anger.

"I didn't mean to taint your innocent eyes, but your men thought I looked better this way." He continued.

Feeling uncomfortable with the situation she changed the subject. "Do you just throw things at home, King Malachi? You must have people serving you at all times."

He tilted his head, placing his hands behind his back. It was something people did when exuding power and confidence. "You must like to assume things, princess. Unlike you, our royal families don't have people serving them at all times. We do most things ourselves."

"Oh really? Then I wonder where you get this attitude from."

"Why so angry today?" He wondered with a frown. "I thought things were getting better between us and since you offered me a bath, I was thinking of being less hostile today." He shook his head. "And don't you think it is normal to have an attitude when you are chained and tortured? Because if you expected compliments and gratitude, then I must let you know that you are delusional."

Ravina took a deep breath not understanding the sudden anger either. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her angry when he suddenly regained control and was calm.

Malachi went to pick up the bucket and put the washcloth in it before placing it in front of her. He then stepped back.

"Can you cook?" He asked her.

"No." Why was he asking?

He smiled. "Then who is more spoiled if you can't even cook?"

He could cook?

"What can you cook? Water?" She mocked. "Oh wait. Maybe grilling is what you do. You know, by spitting fire." She continued with sarcasm.

He threw his head back and laughed.

Again, she marveled at those very white teeth. Maybe it was his darker skin, that made it look more white.

"I didn't think of that. What a great idea. Although I have grilled many humans, I just don't eat them."

"What a waste." She said.

"Don't worry. I won't let you go to waste once I set your body aflame." His eyes burned into hers and for some odd reason, she thought his words carried another meaning.

Ignoring him, she went forward and collected the bucket. A tremor went down her spine when she realized she had just stepped into his zone and he didn't catch her. She looked up slowly, her fingers turning ice cold.

Malachi stood stiff as well. His eyes were a bit wide. He probably didn't expect her to make this mistake and he missed his chance.

"Oh my, how lucky you are." He said.

Both of them were tense but then he laughed. Meanwhile, she was still horrified that she had been so close to dying.

He stopped laughing and looked at her grimly. "This will be the last time you will be lucky."

"You won't kill me. You need me to get out."

"And what do you think I'll do with you after that?" He raised a brow.

"You think I won't put up a fight meanwhile."

"And you think you will win?" He asked amused.

Perhaps, she thought. If he changed his mind and decided to keep her as his breedmate. She still wasn't sure if she was.

"Step back!" She told him and went to pull the chain lever.

The chains pulled him back against the graviton and held his arms stretched out and pinned at the sides as if he was crucified.

This didn't help at all. Now he was chained up like that, with his body stretched out and all on display. She prepared her tools to take care of his wound and then walked over the distance. Again, he watched her silently with a tilted head.

"Don't try anything. Even if you move a little, I will stab you." She showed him her obsidian dagger. "And this time you won't get a bath and you will die from an infection."

When he remained silent, she squatted and put the tools down. As she wet a few cotton pads with alcohol she could see his bare thigh from the corner of her eyes. God, could they not give him any clothes?

Picking up a pad, she stood up. Her gaze fell to the wound on the side of his stomach. Now she had the chance to test her theories without being obvious. She decided to be more daring and many fun ideas came to mind.

Leaning down, she got her face close to his sculpted abdomen. Now she knew a few things about distraction. How only a breath could make you feel something.

Ravina decided to test it. She spoke close to his skin. "This will hurt a little." She warned.