The meeting finally ended.
Malvor thanked every god for that—including himself.Actually, he thanked himself twice.
As the gods and goddesses began filing out, Yara approached him.
She flowed toward him, literally—a graceful, liquid movement, like the water she controlled.
Her blue wavy hair cascaded over her barely-there flowing clothing, her big bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
She was always fun.
When was the last time they had fun?
Oh, right.
Last week.
Hmm. Sounds right.
Her gaze flicked to Anastasia, assessing.
"This is your companion?" she asked.
Oh.Was that… jealousy?
Malvor could work with that.
"Yara, my starfish, you look positively dripping today."
Water puns.Really?
Anastasia made a sound—something between an exhale and absolute exhaustion.
Yara, on the other hand, beamed at the praise. She lived for attention, thrived in it.
And Malvor?
Malvor had always enjoyed her company.
Had even considered something more—something serious—if only she weren't so much like the oceans she ruled.
Free-flowing. Unpredictable. Impossible to grasp for too long.
No, Yara was not meant for him.
But gods, she was fun to play with.
Yara was all over him.
Not that he minded—it was Yara, after all.
She leaned in, pressed against him, her hands bold and wandering.
Fingers slipping under his shirt, teasing along his stomach like she was considering something.
Malvor smirked, let her play—But his attention wasn't on her.
It was on Annie.
Who, predictably, did not react at all.
Not a flinch. Not a glare. Not even an eye-roll.
And he knew she wouldn't.
Yara flirted hard, voice smooth as rolling waves, but when she turned her focus to Annie, something changed.
The playful edge shifted—turned into something interested.
Oh?
Yara's fingers reached for her, light and exploratory—
And Malvor's hand snapped out, stopping her.
"That's mine."
He said it teasing, a lazy smirk curving his lips—
But he meant it.
Because if Yara touched her, that would set a precedent.
And he wasn't about to let that happen.
"Yara, we don't touch other people's toys without their permission."
Malvor's voice was smooth, teasing—But there was an edge to it.
Yara turned to him, all lazy amusement and sultry defiance.
"Oh Mal, you should let me play with your new toy."
"I'm sure you have. She looks so fun. The priest spoke so highly of her."
Malvor raised a brow.
Oh?
He hadn't paid any attention to what the bidding information had said about Anastasia—hadn't cared enough to read whatever nonsense the priests had promised.
But now?Now he was curious.
So he asked, without actually asking.
"Oh? And what piqued your interest?"
His voice dripped with feigned disinterest.
Yara smirked, swirling a strand of blue hair around her finger.
"She was trained to please. By the best of the best."
Not a question.A statement.
Malvor hummed, flicking a glance at Anastasia—Who was watching, listening, but unmoved.
"Oh yes, very pleasing," he said lazily, swirling his fingers in the air. "No complaints."
But inside—
His mind lingered on something else.
Had he missed something?Some kind of experience she carried? Something he should have enjoyed?
No.
He had never stooped so low. Never.
He had never taken someone who didn't want him.
Desire—that was the fun. That was everything.He craved it. Needed it. Wanted to be wanted.
That was the thrill. The chase. The game.
If it was just an expectation—just a transaction—
Then what was the point?
He forced his mind back to the conversation, tuning in just in time to catch Yara droning on about her latest lovers.
A man, a woman, some noble from another realm—
"You should join me, Mal," she purred, voice lilting like the tide."We could have such fun together. Just like old times."
Malvor smirked.
"Not today, Yara, angelfish."
He waved a dismissive hand.
"Though they both sound delightful. Especially the blonde."
Neither he nor Yara knew her name.And that was why Malvor wasn't interested.
He may be chaos, but he at least bothered to remember names.It made people easier to manipulate.
He had to get her back on topic.
Anastasia.His Annie.
"Yara, what did you bid for our latest sacrifice?"
Malvor asked, his voice honeyed with curiosity.
Yara grinned, tossing her wavy blue hair over her shoulder.
"Several beaches, a few lakes… even a lovely lake house."
She gave him a pointed look.
"The one we've been to several times."
Malvor smirked, tilting his head in mock nostalgia.
"Oh, I do love that lake house."
A flicker of amusement crossed her face.
Perfect.
He let the conversation drift, subtly guiding her with teasing remarks and well-placed questions—just enough to get her to talk.
And talk she did.
Nothing of real merit, of course—just scraps, little details about the bidding war.But it was still more than he had before.
Then, as if suddenly remembering, Yara sighed dramatically.
"I still cannot believe you won the bid! Ten years of you not pranking any of us."
She shook her head in mock despair.
"I voted on it, too. You won unanimously. What will you do without that?"
Malvor beamed.
"Oh, I have my workarounds."
He flashed his most dazzling grin.
Yara narrowed her eyes.
"You promised no pranks."
Malvor placed a hand over his heart, feigning deep offense.
"And I am a god of my word, dearest Yara Pearl."
Then, with a wicked glint in his eyes—
"I never said Anastasia wouldn't prank you."
Yara's bright blue eyes flicked between him and Anastasia, assessing, amused.
"Of course, you have a workaround. You always do."
Malvor smirked.
"Oh, Yara, my octopus—"
He paused, caught himself before he could say the sy, then smoothly pivoted—
"My mermaid, you know I always do."
She beamed, satisfied with his answer, and yapped on happily about something else.
Her words washed over him like waves against a stone—constant, relentless, unyielding.
One dimensional.Predictable.
Yara was fun, but she was always the same.
Finally, with a flirtatious giggle, she kissed his cheeks—one, then the other—before drifting away.
Malvor exhaled.That had been exhausting.
Annie, damn it, smiled at him.Knowing.Coy.
Malvor narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious.