Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Kyrith
To say that the discussion does not go well would be putting it mildly. I thought it might get better when cold, logical Leo returned, but I was sorely disappointed.
My arguments were politely dissected with a logical precision I used to admire, then finished off with the most brutal finality.
All six of them were more willing to blow up the Vault than they were to face the prospect of losing me. Especially when, as Leo pointed out, this is unexplored magical territory, and there is no guarantee that the Arcanaeum would come back.
Which would leave me dead, the building gone, and no one alive with the knowledge or power to face Mathias.
I can’t blame them. I would say the same in their place.
But I can’t open the Arcanaeum until this is sorted.
To that end, I spent hours yesterday experimenting with the dagger, trying to discern more about what happened when we were separated.
They watched me like hawks, even though, to all outward appearances, all I was doing was sitting in a trance with the blade in my lap.
Thankfully, communing with the dagger is much the same as doing so with the Arcanaeum once was.
I simply have to touch it. The magic isn’t sentient, or actively helping me, but it’s familiar.
That helps as I silently tease through the layers of magic within, piecing together step by step how the Arcanaeum separated us and how it can be undone.
Now, a day later, my discoveries gnaw at the back of my mind. There are implications to the Library’s actions that I wasn’t aware of before. The bonds between me and my men complicate the issue. I need to think through our options before I explain everything.
Haste paves the road to error, after all.
So here I am, taking a break in the form of dissecting the chant that broke Isidora’s phylactery four days ago.
If I can link the words to a constellation that I recognise, I can produce a runeform that will destroy Mathias’s soul vessel.
Or at least, that’s my goal. Unfortunately, Lambert has a magiball game on the television, Eddy is humming along to music with her headphones on, and North is cursing his way through conjuring more plant pots for Botanical Hall.
Pierce is cooking again, which smells wonderful, but every so often he makes a comment to one of the others that steals my attention.
Normally, I enjoy their company. Their noises distract me from the quietness of the Arcanaeum. Only…Jasper left an hour ago, discreetly checking on his family, with Dakari as his backup. Their absence adds an extra heaping of anxiety to the pile already muddying my thoughts.
I just can’t work like this.
With a small groan, I rotate my neck and gather up my notes.
“Where are you off to?” Pierce asks.
“Somewhere quiet so I can think. How long until food?”
He shrugs. “It’s pot roast. Hours.”
I nudge the door open with my hip. “I’ll be back before then. I just need some peace to work out this runeform.”
Once I’m done with this, I intend to do the same with the chant that funnels magic into the Arcanaeum.
It’s more dark magic than I ever wanted to study, but I have no choice.
I don’t really have a destination in mind as I roam the halls. I certainly don’t drift towards the Astrology Tower intentionally.
But when I reach the middle of Defender’s Hall and find the spiral staircase there has been restored, I pause.
Leo has been single-minded in his determination to put the building back the way it was, but I didn’t know he’d made it this far.
How much did he do? When did he manage it? I tilt my head back, trying to see up, but it’s no use.
I’ll just take a peek. If he’s still working on it, I’ll leave him to it and find somewhere else.
I scale the stairs one at a time, heart beating faster as I trace the grain on the banister with my fingers. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was exactly as before.
But then again, Leo always spent so much time up here. It’s no wonder he remembered all of the details.
When I reach the top and find him with a pen behind one ear, staring at the dark blue painted ceiling with a frown, I have to cover my mouth.
The mural of the starlit sky might be missing, but absolutely everything else is exactly as it was. Right down to the etchings on the brass armillary sphere and the decorative escutcheons on the index card drawers.
I must make a noise, because he whirls, surprise written across his face.
“Wait. I’m not finished—I—”
“You did all this?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I…I was hoping to surprise you, but I can’t figure out how you did the ceiling. Whatever I cast, it just doesn’t look right.”
I hum under my breath. “It was an old spell… I don’t remember the runeform. It’s somewhere in the Vault, but…”
The Vault is huge. Even I can’t remember every grimoire down there.
We lapse into silence, and Leo’s eyes travel down from my face, lingering on Dakari’s locket resting in the hollow of my collarbones. Finally, he notes the papers I’m holding against my chest, and his head tilts to one side.
“Do you want me to leave?”
There’s no pressure in the question, and that makes it easier to shake my head. “No. Stay. I have something for you.”
He falls into his chair, and for a heartbeat, I debate returning to my usual place at his feet, but I don’t.
Not yet.
For now, I conjure myself a matching seat on his left and pull out another piece of paper that’s been hiding amongst the others.
His contract.
Leo’s eyes go wide.
“Circumstances have changed,” I say before he can interrupt.
“Your family is free from the ensorcellment, and I’m not ignorant of your efforts to reverse the damage you did.
While things aren’t yet back to how they were, the Arcanaeum is currently safe, and I don’t believe that you’d betray me again if given the chance. ”
He has no reason to. Mathias has nothing to use against him anymore.
“I—”
I hold my hand up for silence. “This is not forgiveness.”
Truth be told, until the Arcanaeum wakes up and proves that nothing he did was permanent, I’m not sure I can take that final step. Still, I’ve been thinking about it more than I should since our return.
Some things are unforgivable. Now that I’ve had time to reflect on everything that’s happened, I don’t necessarily believe this was one of them.
His motives weren’t malicious; they were desperate and misguided.
He spent weeks neglecting himself. I’m sure his judgement was impaired by lack of sleep and stress.
And no one can refute that he’s doing everything he can to make things right.
Even if those attempts haven’t always gone down well.
He’s taken several concrete steps in the right direction. Apologising. Honouring every boundary I set. Making changes. Taking care of himself and of me. Protecting me.
Beyond that, I miss him. I miss having him call me Kyrie. I miss working beside him.
Feeling that quiet spark back on Rathlin Island, however fleeting, made me realise how much I want it back.
Hanging on to anger when it’s served its purpose would be foolish.
In the end, it comes down to a few simple questions.
Do I believe he’s changed?
Yes. He wouldn’t make the same decision again, and he’s been going to great lengths to prove as much.
Do I still want him?
Yes. Our attraction has never been in question. More than that, he has a beautiful, quick mind, and his devotion to those he cares about is a fierce, proud thing.
Can I trust him with my heart?
That remains to be seen. I’ve been burned once. It’s only natural to be hesitant. Rebuilding what we had will take time. I know that. What matters is that I do want to rebuild it.
However, we’ve reached the stage where moving forward requires a leap of faith on my part.
With that thought firmly in my mind, I lay the folded contract carefully on the arm of his chair.
“You were right. I do want to try things on my list that the others aren’t comfortable with, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I trust you enough to do them with you. At least, not alone.”
His finger traces the edge of the paper like he’s reassuring himself it’s real as he swallows. “You’ve made amendments?”
“I want one of the others with us for some of the acts on the list. I’ve highlighted them.”
It’s a buffer. A safety net. I named Dakari or North specifically for our first time, because they’ve already earned my submission.
Both of them have gone to great pains to care for me after the whirlwind of passion and sensation is over.
If I can trust Leo, if he keeps proving that I’m safe with him, I’ll drop the requirement.
“And I expect you to keep your promise,” I add. “You don’t come. Not inside me. Not in your hand afterwards.”
That part is a test of his commitment, a gauntlet thrown. I don’t even pretend otherwise as I keep him pinned in place with my gaze.
Far from baulking as I expect, he nods jerkily. “Not a problem. And my additions to the list?”
Somnophilia and objectification.
I swallow before answering, “I’ve accepted them, but again, I want one of the others there.”
He runs a hand through his curls. “Are you sure?”
“My safe words were in the contract.” I flow out of the chair, landing softly on my knees and setting out my work on the floor. “Do you intend to honour them?”
His throat bobs, eyes glittering as he takes in my new position. “Of course, but—”
“Galileo.” I edge my tone with enough steel to cut through the uncertainty in his. “I’ve thought this through. Do me the courtesy of not doubting my choices.”
I busy myself by spreading out the books and papers I brought with me. I am here to work after all. There are star charts up here that might even help—
His hand lands in my hair, his long fingers weaving through the strands, using them to tilt my face up to look at him.
The familiarity of it sends nervous tingles racing up my spine.
Under the full force of that ice-blue gaze for the first time in months, my throat goes dry and my thighs press together.
Still, I crush the impulsive urge to bare my neck a little more.
Baby steps.
“I respect the feck out of you,” he promises, voice dropping, turning silken and devastating.
“But I’m a sadist, Kyrie. If you want me as your Dom, you need to accept that I’m going to be very invested in making sure I have your full and enthusiastic consent at all times.
That includes asking you to be very clear about what you want. Can you handle that?”
I nod, biting my lip as that one word bounces around in my brain.
Sadist.
One who derives pleasure from inflicting pain on others.
I’ve read books, of course. But how does that work in real life? Would I enjoy it?
Leo smiles gently, as if he hasn’t just set my curiosity into a spiral. “Good. Now, what are the boundaries of this?”
“Boundaries?” I don’t understand. The contract is right there, setting them out in black and white.
His smile morphs into a concerned frown. “You only submit to the others when you’re intimate. That’s never been the case with us before.”
It hasn’t…?
His eyes drop to where I’m kneeling on the carpet.
“This is submission, Kyrie. Sometimes, I’ll ask you to be naked when you’re like this, but not always.
There are dozens of non-sexual submissive acts not covered in your contract.
Would you sit like this whenever we’re alone?
Are you happy to eat from my hand while sitting at my feet during meals?
Would you accept my choosing your underwear for you?
Your outfits? Our dynamic can cross into daily life in a hundred different ways, but only if you want it to. ”
I purse my lips while I think about it. The things that he’s talking about are a different kind of intimacy, one I hadn’t braced myself for.
“Nothing overt in front of the patrons.”
He inclines his head. “Naturally. But what about if we were in the Clock Tower, watching a game with the others and I wanted you naked and kneeling like this?”
My mouth twists down. “Not in front of Eddy or anyone not in the contract.”
His windstorms-and-paper scent wraps around me as he pets my hair approvingly. “Good. And if I wanted you to sit here and hold my cock in your mouth while I read?”
I hum, rubbing my thighs together to try to banish the sparks of arousal that his words have elicited. “Same condition.”
“What if I fuck your ass, plug it, and send you to work for the day with my seed trapped inside you?”
No one else would know. The damp heat building in my sex reassures me I’m more into that idea than I want to admit. Slowly, I nod.
“I’d try it.”
“And choosing your underwear?”
My cheeks crease as I repress a smirk, and innocently ask, “What underwear?”
The fingers in my hair twist subtly, his hawkish eyes turning sharp. “Kyrie.”
I let my smile break free. “They’re a modern fashion I haven’t yet adopted.”
“Are you telling me, if I tell you to bend over and push that skirt out of the way…?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Was that a request?”
Leo releases my hair, stroking my scalp to soften my disappointment as he says, “Not unless you can summon one of the others up here to be your chaperone.” He pauses, gaze melting.
“Thank you for offering me this. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you decided you didn’t ever want to see me again.
Even if all I can give you is sex, it’s more than I deserve and—”
I rise to my knees, leaning on one arm of the chair, and put my hand over his mouth. “We have work to do.” I flush as he kisses my palm. “And I think the time for apologies has passed, don’t you?”
Actions have always spoken louder than words, after all.