46. Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Six
Astrid
“I can’t believe you’ve dragged me to the library two days in a row,” Augustus says as he follows me through the aisles pulling books from shelves that I think will be useful.
“I need to find out who my mother is,” I say half paying attention as I scour the shelves. Looking for anything that has to do with wasps, plagues, and finding missing family. Though that last one seems to be a little more elusive than the other topics. I’m terrified at the number of books I’ve found about wasps alone, and that’s not to mention the medical journals I have also been scouring.
“Why don’t you ask the library?” Augustus asks like it’s simply common sense.
I shove the stack of books I’m carrying into his arms, half-irritated. He waited this long to say something and I’m half curious about whether it will work or not. “Fine, I’ll go ask.”
The keyboard is only an aisle over, so I don’t have to go far before typing out Finding lost family. When the last letter is hovering over the keyboard, I smash the enter key and the words go flying through the library, faster than they did before. I have to sprint to keep up with them, Augustus staying close on my heels as I follow the glowing words until they run into a wall of books. Disappearing through them.
“Strange, usually the books glow when you’ve found the right selection.” Augustus scratches his head, and I lean a little closer, pulling on one book after another where the shining words floated through. I pull on the last one on the shelf and something clicks. The bookshelf flips around revealing a bowl, like the one that opened the hidden doorway beneath Demendia. The now white marble wall is etched with words written in more of the elegant curling script that covers the outside of the library.
“Can you read it?” My hand hovers over the wall, worried if I touch it something will go wrong.
“Aye, it’s old but not older than me.” He squints his eyes, moving his lips as he reads, “It’s a warning to those who try to pass through, if their blood hasn’t been called to pass, they will freeze? Well, that can’t be right.” Augustus scratches his head as he leans closer to the scrawling calligraphy, “Effie was forced to take classes on ancient fae languages, why don’t we go get her and come back?”
“Why would the keyboard lead me here if I couldn’t get through?” I muse, that doesn’t make sense to me. The keyboard wouldn’t lead just anyone to a secret room, whether they could get in or not ... would it?
“I’m going for it,” I say boldly and Augustus blanches.
“Excuse me? We don’t even know what the consequence is,” Augustus says, trying to talk me out of it as I search my person for a blade. I haven’t used swords since I’ve been training in gymnastics.
“What if the keyboard leading me here was the call? Not going in would be ignoring it.” I point out before spotting the hilt of a dagger sticking from the top of his boot.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, you have no idea what is going to happen,” Augustus says, trying again to talk me out of it, but instead of responding I snatch the blade from his shoe and puncture my finger. I have to squeeze it a bit but two drops of blood plop against the bottom of the bowl. In seconds the blood absorbs leaving nothing in the bowl at all. A second passes before the wall slides up with an audible swish, disappearing into the ceiling.
“Whoa,” I breathe. It echoes through the chamber that seems to be never ending in every direction. The shelves here are lined with scrolls. Some with yellowing paper and frayed edges, while others look new, brilliantly white with crisp edges. There doesn’t seem to be much organization. Gold dowels, wood dowels, even ceramic ones shaped like animals.
One of the ancient scrolls to the right with silver dowels shaped like crescent moons glow.
“That’s the answer to your question,” Augustus breathes, ushering me forward, while keeping his eyes glued to the door. I stare up at the never-ending bookshelf of scrolls, and I gulp. My heart hammers against my ribcage as I approach the shelves suddenly intimidated by what this scroll could mean. Is it going to hold the name of my mother, the name of the family I truly belong to? The story of how I ended up with Papa? Does the library even know this room is here? I hesitate, my hand hovering over the scroll, and before I can snatch it, it flies off the shelf into my hand. Like it was drawn to me, a searing electric current moves through my arm as my vision shifts and it's like I’m looking through multiple sets of eyes before settling back into myself. The sensation in my arm subsides slowly, leaving tingles in my fingers.
“I need you to carry this, I can’t.” Nausea rolls through me at the sensation. Augustus opens his hand, taking the scroll. The sensation vanishes as soon as it leaves my fingers. Augustus doesn’t hesitate in opening it, carefully unrolling the old papyrus. “What does it say?” I ask unable to contain myself. His eyebrows scrunch as he finishes unrolling it and I can’t take the anticipation. The name of my mother, or a surname or something can be written on the inside of the scroll. I need to know. Stepping around Augustus , I peer over his shoulder to find the scroll blank.
“It’s blank?” I ask stopping myself from ripping it out of his hands at the memory of how it made me feel. “How is it going to answer my question if it’s fucking blank?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is there somewhere we can get a drink?” I ask, letting my disappointment permeate the air around me. This was supposed to be it. A hidden scroll with the answers to all my questions. Why the fuck is it blank? The question bounces around my head, echoing through my mind like it’s mocking me , and I just want to not think for the night. I’m tired of having so many questions and not enough answers. I haven’t found anything that will help my people or even me. Demendia is doomed, and that’s something I want to drink to.
“I own a tavern—” I cut Augustus off with a shake of my head.
“I want to go someplace I can be just a girl in a bar and you, just a fae male. A place where whispers don’t swirl around my head every time you walk in. I want to quiet the voices in my mind, not add to them.”
“I know of just the place,” Augustus says, and he’s leading me out of the library.
Purple lights tint the bar in whimsy. Stairs set away from the dance floor covered in writhing bodies and booming music, they lead up to a loft that overlooks the bouncing lights below. I follow Augustus up the spiral steps and into a stool at the bar. Fae and faeries alike fill the tables around us. Some drinking as they sway in their seats, others having found dark corners to explore their partner's body. No one bats an eye at the moans that seem to sound in rhythm with the music.
“What’ll you have?” the bartender eyes me.
“Whiskey,” I say, quickly falling back to my drink of choice in Demendia. The whiskey there tastes like gasoline. I just hope fae whiskey tastes a little better. The bartender, a fae male with black horns that curl over his temples reflect purple light as he pours two ounces into a shot glass without measuring. He sets the drink infront of another patron before turning a questioning look to Augustus.
“The same,” is all he has to say and the bartender places another shot glass on the counter pouring another two ounces. Our glasses clink as we bring them together, then thunk dully as we tap them on the bar in unison before downing the amber liquid. It burns as it goes down, the taste of fire and a slight reminder of home can be found in the after taste. Before I can set my glass down Augustus is waving the bartender over for another round. Then another. Next thing I realize, I’m not sure how many shots we’ve had and my head is swimming and buzzing at the same time.
"I just don’t understand why my father would lie to me about who my mother is in the first place,” I find myself saying as I bring another shot to my lips.
“I’m sure he had his reasons.” Augustus downs his, motioning to the bartender for two more. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to sit and drink with someone. When we left Demendia, I was so caught up in preparing for the hunt, the festival and managing things with the plague that I hadn’t been to the speakeasies in a few months. I can tell my tolerance has taken a hit as my head swims and I come up for air again.
“Reasons or not, I have a lot of unanswered questions.” I quickly down the next shot, standing and walking to peer over the railing into the dance floor below. Fae dance across the floor as the band plays. Bodies sway to the beat, and I want that. I want that carefree sense that they all seem to find so easily. I want just a night to forget all the problems in the world, to enjoy this freedom I finally have. Embla is fine, she’s with Roan. I don’t have to worry about her, and there’s nothing I can do for the people at home until we are able to leave for Scandes. Augustus fills the space behind me as I stare into the sea of bodies below, and his arms circle my waist, pulling me to him. His warm chest presses against me and provides comfort I didn’t know I needed.
“Do you want to dance?” His breath is warm where it tickles the shell of my ear sending goosebumps across my shoulder. He’s so close to me, and I want him to be closer. I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for. Some kind of sign that he doesn’t hate me for what he thinks I am.
“Are you sure you want to dance with a witch?” I ask whirling around to face him, my hands settling loosely on the railing behind me , and he steps in closer.
“I don’t think you’re a witch anymore, but there is something different about you,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the side of my neck as he speaks, and my skin lights up. Need curls inside of me, a need I have never experienced before. Without thinking, I rise on my toes and pull his lips to mine. The music swirls around us, our own personal concert as I lose myself to his touch. The way his tongue parts my lips is urgent and demanding.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt, pulling away from him. His eyebrows come together in confusion, but he points the way and I rush off.
It’s quieter in the purple tiled bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, the flush of the alcohol across my cheeks, and the slight swelling of my lips. I place my hands on the sink looking at the drain before finally meeting my own eyes.
“What am I doing? Am I really going to do this?” I ask my mirror self, and I catch a glimpse of the neon sign that takes up the wall behind the sinks. Bad decisions make the best stories. It glows in purple, and I realize I’ve never made what I would call a bad decision until I stood up to King Daemon, and even now, I don’t think that was a bad thing. Someone needed to do it. I turn back to my reflection, and I can see mirth that runs to my core.
“Fuck it,” I say loudly.
This is the freedom I have been dreaming of my entire life. The freedom to just live and do what I want to do without being punished or judged for it. I’m going to take advantage of every moment of this I have. I strut out of the bathroom, a woman on a mission to live up to the nickname this fae male has given me. Augustus remains where I left him, sipping on his drink. It's like he can feel my eyes on him as he looks up, and the fire in his eyes ignites something deep in my core.
"Let's dance." I wobble slightly as I get closer. He stands holding out a hand to me, a question in his eyes, and before I can overthink what I'm about to do I place my fingers in his. He leads me down the stairs to the dance floor.
The music skates over my skin, begging me to move my body in time with its rhythm. I dance by myself at first, but that doesn't mean I'm alone. I can feel his eyes watching the way I swirl my hips. I catch a glimpse of him through the crowd and he licks his lips. He shoves through the throng of dancers pressing in behind me. The bass of the song rattles my rib cage and my stomach flutters when I feel his hands against my body pulling me close against him. His breath brushes against my neck, but he doesn't bother to say anything as we let our bodies do the talking. His hands rove over me as I grind against him. He pulls me against him harder and his lips trail along my neck to my cheek. He twirls me, pulling me chest to chest with him as my arms instinctually land around his neck. I press myself to him, and I can feel his hard length against my thigh as I grind against him. His finger is under my chin forcing me to meet his eyes, and his gaze dips to my lips asking permission. He presses his lips to mine, but this kiss is anything but innocent tenderness. This kiss is demanding and passionate. Begging for more.
“You want to take this to the bathroom?” I ask, eyeing the stairs that will take us there.
“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to do it in a proper bed.” His voice is a low growl against my ear.
“What’re you waiting for then?” And without hesitation he gathers me into his arms whisking me through the crowd and out the door. Giggles bubbling past my lips as he rushes to get home.
I’m lost in his touch on the way back to The Fallen General’s Tavern. The kisses he places on any open skin he can reach as he hurries us through the streets. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the looks bystanders are giving us, but I also see the moment they shrug it off and continue like this happens every night. When we reach Dwellin he doesn’t go upstairs, instead he reveals a hidden door and steps inside.
“Welcome to my home,” he mutters as he rushes through the space into a bedroom that smells like smoke and sandalwood. His bed is covered in black satin sheets, but that’s all I can see before he presses me against the wall. His kiss is demanding and unyielding. I tremble, worrying about doing something wrong in the moment, but his kisses drown all of that out. He picks me up and throws me on the bed, his soft lips not leaving mine for a second. His hands caress my breasts over my thin shirt, and I can feel my nipples pebble under his touch. “I can’t control myself around you,” he mutters, his hands pulling my shirt above my belly button before dropping warm kisses against my abdomen. He trails down to the top of my pants that he quickly unbuttons and pulls them from my body. Anticipation racks my body with trembles as he lifts my shirt above my head before quickly removing his own clothes and we sit staring at each other's bare nakedness. We don't say a word as we drink each other in. My mind empty aside from the desperate need for him to claim me as his alone.
"You're so fucking beautiful." A devilish smile plays on his face and he leans down to place soft kisses on my thighs, getting closer each time to the place I crave him most. I was not ready when he drags his tongue up my pussy, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips at the touch. Then he’s sucking, using his tongue to flick my clit, sending euphoria through my veins that builds with each stroke. I need more. Then his finger is there, filling me. I grind against him, chasing the precipice of pleasure that builds higher and higher until I'm falling off the edge.
"Good girl," he growls, the vibration of his voice sending me over again and he nips at my thigh. Lust filled eyes rake over my body. He lowers himself to me, pressing his lips to mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue. He fumbles with the clasp of my bra before it finally snaps open, and his attention moves to my breasts, sucking my nipples between his lips as his hand reaches in between my legs rubbing against my sensitive clit, sending electric tingles through my body with each touch.
Anticipation tinged with fear coats my desire. I've never done this before and I'm not sure if I'm doing this right. His cock is huge where he lines up with my entrance. I'm breathing heavily as he lowers himself, kissing me gently as he thrusts into me. He fills me with a sharp sting that dissipates into a warmth and I can't help the hiss that leaves me. He starts to pull back and thrust again when he freezes, and his eyes go wide at what he sees.
"You're bleeding," he whispers, his gaze boring into mine. "Why didn't you tell me you're a virgin?" I watch him sober in front of me, his voice disbelieving.
"Not anymore." I offer a small smile, but he doesn't move. He stays still looking me over like I'm a porcelain doll he almost broke. I wiggle my hips a little, dragging my fingers across his chest and I can see his desire consume him once more.
"If you want to stop, tell me. If it hurts too bad, tell me," he growls, gently rocking into me. "You're going to take every inch of my cock." He touches me like I'm going to fall apart in his arms. His finger goes between us rubbing against my clit as his leisurely pace begins to pick up with each stroke.
"Oh, fuck," I moan when he hits the right spot that shoots pleasure from my center to my toes. "Don't stop," I beg, biting the soft flesh between his shoulder and neck. He sucks in a breath and rolls, pulling me on top of him. His arms hug around my back pulling me into each of his thrusts. "Gods, please," I scream as he pushes deeper and deeper into me, my pleasure coiling like a spring.
"It's just you and me," Augustus growls, his hand going around my throat and he squeezes while forcing me to meet his eyes as the coiling pleasure finally releases. Augustus pumps into me searching for his own release. His thrusts become erratic before he pushes me back off of him to finish on my breasts. He stands from the bed, leaving me sweat drenched and cold. He returns with a towel that he uses to clean me up before I go pee.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, as we both lay in the bed together basking in the afterglow.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal. The Muren makes it seem like a big deal but it can’t be if sex is something that is so natural.” I never understood why the Oracle, Papa, well everyone really, made sex such a big deal. I understand the qualms of pregnancy happening too early, but sex has always been something natural. Something that even the animals partake in.
“It’s a big deal to me, if I had known it was your first time I would have made it more special than a drunken hook up.”
“I spent so long trying to prove that I was the best, and that I could do things that other women were too scared to do. Prove myself to everyone including my father, when all I’ve wanted is to live on my own terms. Make my own decisions, and this was the first decision I’ve made for myself.” I turn my head to look up at him from where I lay across his chest. “You are the first selfish decision I’ve made in a long time, and I won’t regret it for a second.” His lips descend, landing on mine as we drift back into a content happiness.
“What was your childhood like?” I ask and the corners of his lips turn down at the question.
“Where you were sheltered from everything, I was the exact opposite. My mother didn’t believe in sheltering us. Roan, Alhena, and I struggled through our childhood and when mom fell off her meds... things got bad for a while. A couple years before she passed away though, she found the right concoction that brought her back to us. I’ll treasure those memories that I got with her,” he says quietly.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, hugging him a little tighter. Losing a parent is always hard, and nothing I can say will make it any easier for him. Nothing made it easier when I lost my mom. “What’s your favorite color?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“What’s with the interrogation?” he asks, eyeing me from where he lays with his eyes closed.
“I just want to know you,” I whisper and I can feel his answering smile.
“Purple.”
“Mine too,” I whisper. Silence permeates the room until it’s replaced by Augustus’s snoring and I’m left with just my thoughts to keep me company.