Cold Mark by Scarlett Dawn

continued to watch while I piled the pasta into my mouth. Those eyes slowly narrowed as they focused on my mouth. My chewing halted as he reached across the table. His warm thumb brushed the corner of my mouth. I was proud I did not flinch at the contact. Staring at his thumb, where a smear of red sauce now lay, he muttered, "You are a messy Human."
    I grunted and lifted another fork full. "I'm starving. I don't care about etiquette right now."
    His nose crinkled, but he hesitantly put his thumb into his mouth. His brows furrowed as he slid his digit out, tasting the sauce. "I suppose it isn't dreadful."
    "Thanks," I muttered at his horrible compliment. "My teachings on Joyal were not to be a chef, but I can do the basics." Occasionally, I had helped the cook at the boarding house.
    He hummed quietly, watching me for a few moments longer. Ultimately, he picked up his own fork and twirled his pasta onto it. "You seem to find much delight in this."
    I shrugged. It was food in my belly. And it was good. I had already explained that.
    His wide lips parted, taking a large bite. His brows lifted marginally as he chewed. "Thank you."
    My resulting smile was small, almost bashful with his gratitude. "You're welcome."
    We ate in silence though it did not feel uncomfortable.
    I was merely evaluating him while he did the same in return.

    Exiting the kitchen with a full belly, I heard masculine war cries from the back of the building. My attention slammed to Malik in alarm. "Is the palace being attacked?"
    Malik peered down at me with raised brows and asked with extreme slowness, "If my palace was under siege, don't you think I would know about it?"
    My lips thinned into a straight line, but my cheeks flushed. "Fine. But what is that?" I wiggled my shoulders as the pull within me lessened. I blinked. "I think Leo's back there."
    Malik sighed heavily and then grabbed my elbow. He herded me toward the vicious noise. "Yes, Leo's back there. I should be there, too. There are games in the back courtyard during this time of the evening."
    I could barely keep up with his long gait. As he pulled me, I literally had to jog to keep from falling on my face. "What kind of games do Mian play?" Visions of decapitated heads rolling on the grass were all that came to mind. "I'm not sure if I want to go out there." I tried digging in my heels, but my bare feet slipped on the polished concrete. "Really, Malik, I don't think this is a great idea."
    "You're coming." He gripped my elbow even tighter.
    "I'm wearing pajamas!" It was a last ditch effort with the massive back door now in my sights.
    He snorted. "Nice try." His feet never stopped moving toward the door. "We've hired a seamstress to attend to you tomorrow. She should be able to make clothes small enough to fit you. She normally deals with children."
    " Mother Joyal, please keep me safe ," I whispered a prayer in English.
    Malik's shoulders actually shook as he glanced back at me, dragging me along. "You do realize Mother Joyal is the reason why you're here?" A black brow cocked. "Perhaps you should start praying to an entity that listens."
    My blink was gradual. "And that would be?"
    His grin was shadowed in cruelty. "I'll let you know when I give a damn about perceived holy existences." He opened the door and stepped outside into the cool night air, tugging me with him. The noise of the banshee cries stung my ears with their malice. He peered down at me as he shut the door behind us and held my frightened gaze. He grunted while his silver eyes ran across my features. "The game is Hujlum. No one dies in this sport." He glanced at his hold on my bare elbow, and his lips curved into the tiniest of real smiles. "Though, there is contact." His grin widened ... and I could only stare. His happiness transformed his stunning features to make him even more attractive than he already was. "But not barbaric contact. So don't worry your ridiculous Human mind over that."
    Even if I had heard half of what he