CHAPTER 9
“Are you the only Witch?” I ask her, stunned.
“No, my daughter is already showing signs, and my mother is a Witch, too. We have remained hidden just like you.”
I nod my head in understanding.
“So how old are you, anyway?” she asks curiously.
“I turn twenty-one tomorrow,” I tell her.
She gasps. “So you might be the one they are looking for then; you could save us all,” she says excitedly. I don’t know how she still has hope for the Chosen One. I tossed hope out the window years ago.
“Do you know of the book? The one with the prophecy?” she asks.
I shake my head, not knowing what she is talking about. “What book?” I ask.
“The one only the Fae with magic can read. The one that says how to break the curse. How have you not heard of it?” she asks incredulously. Her words make me think of my grandmother’s book, the one Silas took and hasn’t returned.
“We had one book; I don’t know if it is it, Silas took it. When he opened it, the pages were blank. I couldn’t read it, either, my grandmother said it is about the Chosen One. She read it.”
“Where is your grandmother?”
“Dead. She killed herself the night they brought me here, said she would slow me down and she couldn’t risk them finding out.”
Abigail seems to think for a second. “Maybe ask him for it?” she suggests.
I raise an eyebrow.
“No, think about it, they would want to know what is in it. They are your mates and if you reject them, they won’t be able to procreate when the curse is broken.
I am sure if you asked, he would give it back or let you read the history books they have here.
Then, if you are the Chosen One, just tell them you can’t read it.
At least you will know what it says,” she tells me.
I nod. It might work if only I could lie when they asked. I know I wouldn’t get away with it, they would know if I tried.
We had been just sitting in her room, talking. Talking about her life, her daughter and how she came to work for the Dragon Kings. They found her when she was pregnant. Her husband had angered them, and they killed him, all for mentioning some Fae’s name.
Abigail wouldn’t even repeat the name of which he spoke. She feared we would be overheard, and they would grant her the same fate her husband was subjected to, leaving her daughter behind. Abigail told me her daughter is three now and lives with her mother and she gets to see her when Silas leaves.
She says Matitus and Dragus grant her permission to leave the castle as she pleases, when he is gone, allowing her to visit her daughter.
Pulling out a photo she had stuffed inside her pillowcase, I gaze at the angelic face of her daughter. This was from the last time I visited. “My mother found an old Polaroid camera in the trash and had one film left in it.”
Her daughter, Claire, is adorable. She has rosy cheeks, pale skin, and dazzling green eyes and black ringlets. Abigail peers down at her daughter, her fingers tracing over her daughter’s face gently.
The door opening makes us both jump. Abigail shoves the photo under her pillow.
It is too late. I know Silas had seen it.
My heart thumps in my chest against my ribs, palpitating frantically as he moves closer, holding out his hand, wanting to know what she is hiding from him.
Abigail looks at me in panic, and I know it worries her that he would destroy the only thing she has of her daughter.
“Hand it over,” he says, and I see tears brim in her eyes and I feel bad for asking what her daughter looks like. She reaches under the pillow.
“It’s just a photo, it is all she has, please,” I plead.
“Show me?” he says, snapping his fingers, his cruel gaze watching and waiting for her to hand it over. She pulls the photo out, handing it to him.
He plucks it from her fingers and examines the photo, his eyes softening slightly, and I think I imagine it as he looks down at the little girl in the photo.
“It’s time to go,” he says, staring at me.
I stand, my eyes not leaving Abigail’s who has her eyes trained on the photo in his hand. He passes it back, and she lets out a breath, taking it and holding it close to her chest, and I can tell it is her most prized possession. Silas grips my elbow, pulling me toward the door.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as he pulls me down the corridor.
“It’s late,” he states, pulling me up the stairs and I realize he is taking me to their bedchambers. When I see the door come in sight, I freeze. My feet stop as I stare at the door in horror. He is really going to make me sleep in there with them. Turning, I try to find some way to escape.
I only see Dragus walking up the stairs toward us. Silas tugs my elbow again and I shake my head, refusing to go in that room with them. Silas growls low and goosebumps rise on my skin. I step back slightly as his eyes change. He closes them and pinches the bridge of his nose, frustrated.
“Elora, get in the room.”
“No, I am not sleeping in there. Just let me go back to my room.”
Silas takes a step forward to grab me and I step back out of his reach and his eyes flicker dangerously. Dragus comes up behind me, placing his hands on my hips, making me jump at his touch.
“This is your idea; you can deal with her. I may just fucking kill her,” he says glaring at me, and I shrink back from his gaze. Bipolar much? He was fine until I refused to go in the room.
Dragus pulls me toward the stairs, and I let out the breath I am holding. He steers me toward my room, and I quickly sit on the bed and pick up the book I was reading.
“Did you read the one about Dragon Mates?” Dragus asks. I shake my head.
“I will let you stay for a bit, but Silas wants you upstairs with us. And before you refuse, it wasn’t a choice.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because the more you are around us, the more pull the mate bond will have on you.”
“Fae don’t have mates,” I tell him. He shakes his head, moving and sitting on the end of the bed.
“They don’t have mates?” he asks, reaching his hand closer to my face. Gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip and makes my skin heat up at his touch.
My heart rate increases as he moves closer, so his lips are barely touching mine, his breath fanning my face. His scent is strong, and I inhale deeply, loving the smell of him this close. It is intoxicating and addictive. No one should smell as appealing as he does at this moment.
Dragus closes the distance, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and biting down softly. I shiver and the foreign feelings of arousal hit me, and I moan against his lips. He chuckles, pulling back and it is like a fog has been lifted.
“Fae still feel the pull, or did that feel like nothing to you?” he asks, and I swallow. Dragus gets up, striding back to the door and stopping.
“An hour and I will be back to get you.”
I nod because what else can I say? It isn’t like I have a choice in this.
I sit there reading for about forty minutes, finally finishing the book.
I pick up both books and look at the cover of the Dragon one.
It looks old, but its size is daunting as I flick through the pages and the whole idea of being their mate is hard enough without having to read about it.
I head to the library to see if I can find another Fae book but on Magic.
I place the books back on their shelves.
I scan the other books when something catches my eye.
An entire shelf of what looked like journals.
I run my fingers over the leather spines.
Each book has Silas and the year engraved into it.
Pulling one off the shelves, I read the spine. Silas 1801. I shake my head. “Surely he isn’t that old,” I whisper to myself.
“He’s older,” comes a voice behind me, making me jump and I drop the journal I was holding. Dragus bends down picking it up, placing it on the shelf behind me. I move out from under his arm. Dragus runs his fingers over the spines of the journals, pulling one from the shelf.
He hands it to me. It is again one of Silas’s journals, the year is 1916 instead. Dragus moves closer and I step back, coming in contact with the desk in the center of the room. He chuckles, placing his hands on either side of the desk beside me.
“Always so jumpy, yet your heart doesn’t race like it does around Silas,” he says.
“Maybe because you’re not as homicidal,” I tell him.
He hands me the book.
“Won’t Silas be mad you gave me this?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, we all want the same thing.”
“And what is that?”
“You,” he says, kissing me. His lips are soft yet demanding and I feel his tongue brush my bottom lip wanting access and I grant it.
He presses himself between my legs, gripping my hips and placing me on the desk.
His kiss deepens as I feel his tongue tasting every inch of my mouth.
His hand escapes inside my top and his warm hands caressing my skin, moving to my breasts.
Arousal floods me, and my core aches with anticipation.
I kiss him back, my tongue playing with his and I hear him groan before feeling the bulge in his pants pressing between my legs.
His other hand snakes underneath my thigh as he brings my leg up against his hip pushing me back onto the table.
Dragus lips move to my neck, and I open my eyes only to see Silas standing behind his desk.
I squeal and jump up. I didn’t even see him come in let alone move behind his desk. Dragus stops before standing, a smirk on his face as he stares at Silas.
“You just had to come in and ruin it,” he says.
Embarrassment floods me as I realize I probably would have let Dragus continue if I hadn’t realized Silas was there.
Hopping off the desk, I turn, and Silas is holding his journal in his hand.
His eyes are watching my blushing face, and I can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips like he is enjoying watching, which only made me blush even more at being caught by him.