Darkness Unfold (#3)

Chapter 13: Waiting For the Slap

Slipping inside the empty chambers, that were the Queen's sitting chambers, hadn't been the hard part. It was showing feelings towards Alina without getting a slap in return, waiting for it to prove himself wrong. The Darkling knew that the girl that he was with was no ordinary girl, but she couldn't have any connection to the Morana. The timelines wouldn't have fitted.

But as the door closed, he kissed her, pushing her against the wall. His hands buried deep in her hair and the other held her back, pulling her closer. The moment he placed his lips on her, he could feel him amplifying her powers. He was making sure that Alina wouldn't forget this feeling of power that was flooding through her. He wanted her to know what she could achieve if she simply surrendered herself to him. This was only the beginning.

Alina hadn't slapped him, but he was surprised when she pulled back. "You don't want to be doing this."

"This is the only thing I want to be doing." He didn't want to sound annoyed but the bitterness was still in his voice. He wanted her to realise that she wouldn't be accepted by anyone more than him, that her powers were his and no one else's. Maybe that was possession. Maybe he had grown to care for her in a way. But he had to make sure that she wouldn't even think of her friend in that situation.

He continued to kiss and tell her that he was one step closer to finding the stag, giving her hope that one day, the two of them would walk into the Fold and destroy it. But how could he have that when the lives of Grisha would be in danger? He knew what the King would do once the Fold was gone. He would kill Alina in the most brutal way possible and make the Darkling suffer for years. And maybe, just maybe, after he got bored with him, he would kill him.

But the noises from the hallway were unmistakable, which made the Darkling pull away and close the door first. He could have no sort of rumours going around about him and Alina. In the silence that followed, they stared at each other. The Darkling was thankful for the door opening and interrupting him, because even dead, Adaline did not leave him.

"I should go." He told her what Alina had told him at the library, when he was going to make his first move. But before leaving for his chambers, he turned back. "Alina, can I come to you tonight?" But the hesitation in the wait of the answer was enough for him to know that the kiss hadn't been enough. Alina was afraid. Whether it was of him or of what would happen if he decided to care for her, he did not know. But one thing was clear, Alina was going to be the balance that he had been looking for, the only one that he could use to make his way out.

Entering his chambers, the Darkling, for a moment, thought that he had been looking inside a mirror. The tracker that stood before the table looked like a young version of himself. That must have been the secret champagne getting to him, but he felt a sudden liking towards him. This was certainly going to be an interesting conversation.

The Darkling could feel the tracker's glare on him. He was, after all, the most powerful and hated Grisha in all of Ravka. Why wouldn't a mere Second Army Tracker not be jealous? Why would he not be scared? But it wasn't fear that was in Malyen Oretsev's eyes - it was trickery.

Mal was quick in noticing the drawing of the stag at the end of the table, which he recognised to be Alina's work. He could identify those specific strokes anywhere. Looking at the Darkling, he wondered if he was too late. Had Alina given herself completely to him? He had seen the way she had looked at the Darkling at the fete. Had Mal lost the only friend that he had? The only family that he had?

"I want to meet her." He demanded. "Only then will I show you the location of the stag." He handed the pencil back to the Darkling, who seemed to have stood taller in the one second that passed.

If the two of them had known who they were, maybe one of them wouldn't have survived the night. But fate worked in mysterious ways. The day of their demise was written long ago by a certain brown-eyed beauty.

The Darkling clenched his fists together. An otkazat'sya was negotiating with him. A human was talking back to him. But the Darkling had no bargains to make with him. He was a mere tracker. There was no way that he could interfere with the plan. So the Darkling simply smiled. "You can meet her tomorrow. I'm sure she is tired after the long day that we've had."

Mal tried not to hear the hint, but he had the strongest urge to punch the demon standing before him. When an oprichniki entered the room to take him back to the main event, he remained silent. All he wanted was to meet Alina again and make sure that the Darkling hadn't hurt her in any way.

But there was one thing that the Darkling hadn't been expecting - Alina leaving for the Little Palace earlier than he thought she would have. Genya should have kept her company, but what could the Grisha do when she had been basically barred from any event, always being favoured by the King and working for the Queen?

Alina and Mal had met each other and the two of them rekindled through their childish feuds. Perhaps it was their way of letting the other know that they cared, that they needed to communicate better than they did. But pride blinded them. The Darkling's words were echoing in both their ears. Mal saw the flushed look on her face and Alina could see how Mal would never accept who she was. If only they had not let the Starless Saint get to them would they have realised that the anger they were feeling towards each other was because of love.

The Darkling may have won that night by driving Alina away from Mal Oretsev, but he would lose. In the end, he would always lose. Whether it be in losing the only one that could love him for the monster that he was or his sanity, he would fall at the end. There was one factor that he couldn't have predicted to act on behalf of his actions - his madraya.