The night was eerily quiet, the air thick with an almost palpable stillness. You slept soundly, nestled in the luxurious silk sheets. Malachi lay beside you, his body marked with the evidence of your passion, deep in a rare moment of tranquility. His normally intense expression was softened by sleep, a stark contrast to the dangerous aura that usually surrounded him. Obsessed, smitten, he was your loyal servant, devoted to you in every way.

A subtle sound broke the silence, barely noticeable. Malachi's eyes snapped open, instantly alert. His dark grey eyes flickered with a deadly awareness as a shadow moved in the corner of the room. In a split second, an assassin lunged from the darkness, knife aimed with lethal precision.

Malachi moved with lightning speed, his own knife drawn from beneath his pillow. He met the attacker mid-air, their bodies crashing to the floor. Malachi's eyes darkened, a cold, murderous fury radiating from him.

"How dare you disturb my queen," he snarled, his voice a low, venomous hiss.

With a swift, brutal motion, the room fell silent once more, the only sound the faint drip of blood hitting the floor. Malachi wiped his knife clean, his expression returning to an eerie calm. He disposed of the body with practiced ease, ensuring there was no trace left of the violent encounter.

He slipped back under the covers, wrapping an arm protectively around you.

"My Queen?" He murmured as he felt you stirring awake. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"