44. Chapter 44
Chapter 44
W hen Aurelia finally looked up from the book in her lap, night had fallen beyond the towering windows of the library.
Stretching her arms above her head, her stomach gave a small groan. How many hours had passed since she’d eaten anything?
Leaving the stack of books on the table, she made her way down the spiral staircase, seeking out the kitchens. Passing the long row of desks on the first floor, Seth glanced up from his usual seat, his eyes meeting hers briefly as he offered her a small nod of acknowledgment.
Ven had told her of his gift, but it wasn’t until they’d returned that she seemed to notice the darkness etched into his lineless face.
What was it like to have some small glimpse into the future?
Did his visions come to him in symbols that he had to decipher? Or depictions that played out in his mind exactly as they did in reality? Did they alter with his actions or was he a passive bystander to their inevitable conclusion?
If he had the choice, would he rid himself of it?
Curiosity made her search his face for some answer to the questions that she didn’t have the nerve to ask, but the male hid his emotions even better than his power.
Someone grunted as she ran straight into the solid back blocking her path, completely lost in her own thoughts.
An apology was on her tongue as her eyes lifted to the familiar set of broad shoulders, further up to the tousled copper hair.
“Asher—” she started, “what are you doing here?”
Her brother had the same stricken look across his face as when their mother had caught him emptying one of Galina’s digestive tonics into Brother Bald’s cup of tea.
Asher scanned the library, as if searching for the answer to her question and coming up short. “I—read,” he replied indignantly, his fair skin turning shadeberry red.
He’d easily been the least studious of the three siblings, always preferring to be outside or tagging along on patrols atop the gate. How many times had he gotten scolded for neglecting his lessons—their mother dragging him by the ear when she would find him training in the pit with Bastien instead of practicing his sums.
“Sure,” she said slowly, not quite certain when her brother had decided he enjoyed reading as a pastime, or libraries, for that matter; she’d never seen him sit still long enough.
His green eyes snagged on something behind them, and Aurelia turned to see what had commanded his attention so thoroughly that he seemed to have forgotten her completely.
Not something.
Some one .
Across the room, an Allokin librarian balanced a stack of thick tomes in her arms. A particularly irreplaceable looking volume slipped from her grey hands, the book seeming to fall in slow motion as a bronze hand whipped out with such preternatural grace that Aurelia flinched from where she stood.
Seth handed the book back with a polite smile, dark head bent over his reading once more.
Her gaze flicked back to where Asher stood beside her, realization dawning.
Clearing his throat, Asher placed his hands on his hips, feigning interest in the section of books behind them as he disappeared between the stacks without another word.
Her lips tugged into a smile. She wasn’t one to meddle—she’d leave that to Embra. But a fist squeezed tightly around her chest, and selfishly, she wondered if the Wraith might be enough to keep her brother at Ravenstone a little longer.
When Ven found her, Aurelia had one leg slung over the rolled arm of the chair, a heavy book propped open in her lap, and a small stack of empty plates and discarded dishes on the table next to her.
She went to take another sip of the glass of Red in her hand when he grasped the stem of the wineglass, plucking it from her fingers.
Leaning in close enough that his breath caressed her ear, he growled, “I realize you’re new to our customs,” his voice soft and low despite the edge in his tone, “but I find it a little insulting that you would drink the synthetic stuff to quench your thirst instead of just asking.”
Her blood heated at the dangerous look in his eyes as she sat up straighter, her chin tilted toward him in challenge.
“The only blood I want to touch your lips from this day forward, Love—” he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, “is mine.” His touch was feather-light against the sensitive skin of her throat—a seduction. A threat.
Love.
That silly pet name that he’d given her when she’d barely known him—it still drove her mad. Still made her blood boil. Sent her power surging to the surface in response to his own, or maybe it was his voice. Or maybe just him .
“And if I find my thirst unquenchable?” she replied with equal venom, trying to keep her voice even as he caged her into the chair, his large body towering over hers.
The predatory smirk that pulled at his sensuous lips made her realize he was well aware of what he was doing to her. And if he didn’t hear the way her heart thudded in her chest, he could certainly see her pulse hammering at her throat—scent her body’s response to him . . .
“Then I’ll be happy to die at the lips of My Queen,” he whispered against her neck.
"Queen—" she murmured, the word sinking in as her eyes flicked up to his. "You've decided to take the throne . . ."
"Not yet," he hesitated, "It is not my decision alone." He looked at her, the playfulness from earlier dissolving into something more serious. "Will you sit beside me? Rule our people with me?" he asked. "Fight for them?"
She understood the weight of what he was asking of her—the weight of this choice.
"With my life," she answered.
Shadows puddled and eddied around them, the wisps caressing her ankles and the bare skin of her arms as he carried them away without another word.