Chapter 12
Twelve
Jasper
“Have you tried telling her you like her?” Hazel says from her spot on my bed, in my room, which she hasn’t left since I returned from class an hour ago. “Girls love when guys make the first move. I’ve been waiting for Rory in my class to ask me out for weeks, but he’s too chicken.”
My sister might barely remember me, but over the holidays, she’s made herself at home in my space. I enjoy her company most of the time, but I’m not about to take dating advice from a thirteen-year-old, especially when it concerns a woman five hundred years her senior.
It’s been a week since Kyrith let us back into the Arcanaeum. In the three study sessions we’ve had since then, I’ve kept to myself, inundated with the coursework I have to do to catch up.
It’s important that I study, but my thoughts have been running rampant.
Frustratingly, very few of them are focused on the work I should be doing.
Lambert’s suggestion has been winding through my mind like a disease.
Now, every time Kyrith brushes past me while we’re studying or leans over my shoulder, invading my space with that cool, composed voice and her icy lily scent, I can’t help but think… maybe…
“It isnae like that,” I tell her, tugging my jumper on. “I’ve made my interest clear—”
“And what did she say?”
“What?”
“When you told her you wanted to go out with her?”
My cheeks burn as I think back to the moment I asked her to stay after she blew my mind with the best—and weirdest—hand job of my life.
“She…ran away.”
“Oh, that definitely means she likes you.” Hazel nods sagely. “You should bring her flowers. But not roses. They’re cliché.”
I buckle my grimoire holster at my waist and pin her with a look. “Why don’t you focus on helping Rory learn to win a woman, rather than meddling with my love life?”
“Because Rory’s a lost cause, duh.”
Ugh. I cannae keep up. “I thought you liked him?”
“Aye, but no boys are gonnae ask me out while I have bodyguards following me everywhere.”
I grimace. Pierce’s warning rings in my skull. The Carltons will use anyone they can against me. Hazel included. I just wish he’d told me why.
“It’s for your own protection. Pierce said—”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m in danger.” She lets out a big huff. “And why do you believe the Carlton heir, anyway? Wasn’t it his family that kidnapped you?”
I don’t know why. Every time I think too hard about it, my head splits open. I get flashes every now and again; moments that don’t make sense, but which must be part of my captivity.
One of them in particular plays over and over.
Pierce, clutching the bars of my cell and resting his head against them, eyes closed and…sad.
An ice pick stabs into my temple, and my throat closes over as I work to conceal the pain from my sister’s too-perceptive gaze.
I havenae told Kyrith, but I’ve had two more seizures since I returned home.
The first, when Halinor questioned me about what happened on the day I was taken, and the second when my cousins taunted me into fencing them at the gym—which made no sense.
“It’s always best to be careful,” I reply eventually. “Now, I’ve got to go.”
“You’re hours early for the game,” she protests.
My hand brushes the lump in my pocket for reassurance.
Still there. Grand. I still cannae believe I didnae think to get Kyrith a Christmas present.
Though, to be fair, I couldnae exactly go out and just buy one while I was claiming Sanctuary.
Fortunately, I managed to sneak down to Kirkwall yesterday and grab something.
What if it’s too late for presents? What about her birthday? I never even thought to ask… Wait, does she know when she was born? Did they celebrate birthdays in Tudor England? I snatch my phone up from my desk, running a search.
They celebrated saints’ days? What’s Kyrith’s saint’s day? A quick search for that yields no answers either.
“You’re scared!” Hazel realises.
“No,” I immediately lie, then wince. “A wee bit, maybe. But I’ll get over it…” Aware that my cheeks are heating more and more by the second, I turn my back on her, knocking on my bedroom door. “Ad Arcanaeum.”
It swings open, hitting me with the scent of books, and I hesitate again.
Usually, the Arcanaeum admits me through one of the halls or the Rotunda. Never Kyrith’s stairwell.
Is this some kind of invitation? Am I supposed to be here?
Hazel, unaware of the reason for my lingering on the doorstep, sneaks up behind me and pushes me through.
“Go tell her!” she urges, then the door slams shut.
And then disappears.
Well, that’s good, right? Kyrith wouldnae seal me in the stairwell if she didn’t want me to go up it.
Unless it was the Arcanaeum? But why would it do something like that without a reason?
Clutching the velvet box like it’s a stress ball, I climb the rickety wooden stairs one by one.
They’re less squeaky than usual. Wee arched windows have been installed every few steps, each one stained glass featuring a different flower.
It feels good. Brighter. Like the Arcanaeum is making her space more of a priority now that she’s alive.
I flick the tiny catch on the box with my thumb as I climb the last few steps.
Eddy stopped claiming Sanctuary earlier in the week, so it’s no surprise that her bed on one side of the stairwell is gone. The empty space has been taken over by shelves, but I barely spare them a glance, searching the other side of the room for Kyrith—
Only to freeze as I find her on her bed.
Her eyes are closed; red lips parted on a silent moan as her fingers dance between her legs. If I take one more step, I’ll be able to see her cunt over the fabric of the skirts she’s shoved up in pursuit of her pleasure.
Fucking beautiful.
What I wouldnae give to drop to my knees and see her over the edge she’s closing in on. Does she taste as sweet as I imagine?
Her eyes snap open, latching onto me, standing on the top stair like a pervert. The quiet moan blessing my eardrums morphs into a startled gasp as her hands shove frantically at her skirts. Her cheeks are flushed scarlet, doe eyes wide and refusing to meet mine as her breasts heave.
Fuck. Should I leave? I should—
“We have got to stop meeting like this,” she stutters before I can mumble an apology and retreat.
“I’ll go,” I automatically offer. “Unless… Do you want help?”
Stupid. Stupid. She’s never going tae—
But her eyes darken, interest lighting them up from within. It gives me a spark of hope. After five hundred years of nothing, she deserves all the pleasure she can stand, and I want to give it to her.
“I’m at your disposal,” I whisper. “If you only say the word. Any time.”
Kyrith’s hands tangle in the fabric of her long skirt, like she’s trying to discreetly wipe away the evidence of her arousal from her shining fingers. Magic, I’d give anything I own to lick those digits clean.
“I’m supposed to be impartial.”
Oh. That same excuse again. Deflating, I nod, my grip on the box easing as I turn away. I’m not Lambert to push and push until someone says no. I can take a hint…but still…
“Lass, we both know you’re not the kind of woman to be so easily influenced by anything with a cock.
” I pause, releasing the box in my pocket to grab the railing.
“If you don’t want us, just say so. We’re big boys.
We can take it. And you should probably be blunt to stop Lambert before he gets any more wild ideas. ”
Her brows furrow. “Wild ideas?”
Shit. Me and my big mouth. “Nothing,” I splutter, fleeing another step.
“Stay.” Her single word freezes me, dragging my head up. “Just for this. Just one time.”
My heart thumps off-kilter for a smidge, and I take a half step back in her direction before stopping.
I want her, I do, but not once. Last time, we came together in the heat of the moment, for one of the hottest encounters of my life, and a few minutes later, she sent me packing.
She’s still treating me like a one-night stand. I don’t want that.
If she’s still worrying about impartiality, she’s definitely not going to consider anything more than casual sex, let alone the other things I’d planned to ask for when I stepped into the Arcanaeum.
I shake my head. “No.”
Her beautiful brown eyes widen. “No?”
I offer her a sad little smile. “I’m not here for that—even though I want you more than my next breath. I actually came to give you this.” I pull the box out of my pocket and flick it open, displaying the delicate bracelet inside. “And to ask you to go on a date with me.”
Her incredulous look is one I’ll treasure forever. I’ve stunned the Librarian speechless, and it’s an adorable look on her.
“Jasper… I can’t leave.”
“No. You can’t,” I acknowledge. “I thought of a way around that, but you’re not ready, and that’s okay. Just…promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?”
“You can’t wait for me,” she objects. “You shouldn’t even be trying to date me. You’re alive and—”
“So are you.” I place the little box on a side table, taking another step down into the gloom.
“You should date women your age—”
“I don’t want them.” I want her. Only her.
She’s been stuck in my brain since I woke up and saw her pretty eyes for the first time.
“A third of my lifetime has been spent in a cage. I dinnae remember the last decade. I’m not about to waste time chasing other women when I know full well the only one for me is right here. ”
Again, I reach for those stupid memories, and a spear of pain lances through my temple in response. Stifling my groan, I descend until I can’t see her in case my expression gives me away. The last thing I need now is her pity on top of her rejection.
“I’ll be down with the others.”
Her soft sigh and the thump of her head hitting the pillows haunt my retreating steps. I can’t help listening intently, praying for her to call out, to ask me to come back.
She never does.