Chapter 33
Iawoke the next morning, for once well-rested, starfished across the mattress with a pleasant soreness between my legs. Casimir’s intoxicating scent still lingered on my skin, and I blushed at the memory of how it came to be there.
Opening my eyes, I flipped over on the bed, my dark hair spilling like ink across the ivory pillow.
It was empty. A bolt of anxiety shot through me.
Had he left? I scrambled toward the ledge to see Casimir already up and brewing coffee in the kitchen.
Stop being paranoid, Arden. Hastily gathering my clothes from the floor, I tugged them on, avoiding making eye contact with my reflection in the mirror on the wall.
I was sure I looked like a gremlin, and I desperately needed a bath.
“What time is it?” I called down to Casimir as I clambered down the ladder to the main floor.
“Nearly two in the afternoon,” Casimir replied, arching a brow at my appearance. “If you’d like to bathe before breakfast…” He jerked his chin in the direction of the bathroom.
“Are you implying I look like I need a shower?” I glanced down at my rumpled clothes and patted my frizzy hair.
He gave me a roguish wink. “Not at all. Just being a polite host.”
Doing my best to maintain whatever little dignity remained to me, I cleared my throat and said, “In that case, I might take you up on your offer,” and scurried off to the bathroom.
As it turned out, a hot soak in Casimir’s claw-footed tub vastly improved my mood. The bath was wide and deep enough to submerge myself in. The sink was a curved marble basin adorned with a gold faucet and surrounded by sconces in the shape of seashells.
After brushing my teeth with the spare toothbrush I’d found in a drawer, I dressed and combed my hair again, which was now silky and smooth thanks to Casimir’s wide collection of hair products.
I made a mental note to tease him about them later.
I emerged from the bathroom to find him waiting for me with a furious expression on his face.
Mystified by the sudden change in his demeanor, I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong when my gaze fell to his hands, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
He was holding the Book of Erebos.
My chagrin at being caught out was immediately followed by an irrational sense of betrayal at his having the audacity to search my bag.
“I knew something was wrong last night when you threw the Book into the fire, when it didn’t make a single sound as it burned.” He spoke softly, but his tone belied the rage blazing behind his eyes. “You tricked me.”
He might’ve sounded surprised, if he wasn’t so angry. “Let me explain.”
“EXPLAIN WHAT?” he bellowed. “Explain why you intentionally swapped out the book for a fake and made me believe we destroyed the real one?”
I faltered at his expression, contorted with rage.
“Well?” he demanded.
“I… I couldn’t let you destroy the Book,” I confessed. “It’s part of my bargain with Evren.”
The silence that followed my declaration was deafening. I watched Casimir’s chest rise and fall with short, heavy breaths.
After a long moment, he spoke. “Part of your bargain was to prevent me from destroying the Book.” It wasn’t a question. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to tell you!” I cried. “I just couldn’t—” Only then did it dawn on me that perhaps the wording of my bargain had magically dissuaded me from revealing the details to Casimir.
“Will you vow to do all in your power to ensure the Darkseer does not destroy the Book?”
All in my power.
Revealing the truth to Casimir in any part would have made forestalling the Book’s destruction that much more difficult.
“If I’d told you the truth, you wouldn’t have let me destroy it. And then… ” I let the implication hang in the air between us.
Casimir bristled. “Do you truly believe I would’ve destroyed the Book and watched you succumb to the consequences of breaking your bloodbargain?”
“I don’t know what you might’ve done,” I admitted.
Dragging a hand through his bedraggled curls, he sighed deeply. “Well, regardless of your low opinion of me, this changes things.”
I winced.
“Destroying the Book of Erebos is no longer an option,” he said.
My eyes snapped to his face, hope rising like a wave in my chest. “It’s not?”
Casimir snorted softly. “No, obviously. What sort of Daemon do you think I am?” Shaking his head, he took a seat on the sofa, surveying me from beneath his dark lashes. “Would you like some coffee? There’s food in the kitchen as well.”
“I—yes, thanks,” I breathed, and headed to the kitchen to pour myself a steaming cup from the French press. My temples were beginning to ache from caffeine withdrawal. I sighed as I took my first sip, the throbbing in my skull fading almost at once.
“So, just to clarify,” I began tentatively, “you’re not angry that I swapped the books right under your nose?”
“Oh,” Casimir said, a shadow casting over his expression, “I was furious when I discovered your little bit of skullduggery.” His lips tugging into a crooked smile.
“But not nearly as angry as I was at myself for giving in to my weakness for nicotine. I assume that’s when you switched out the real Book for the fake? ”
I nodded, chagrined.
“I must confess I’m impressed with your capacity for subterfuge, Farrow. I honestly didn’t know you had it in you.”
I didn’t know whether I should feel insulted or gratified by his comment. “Next time, perhaps you won’t underestimate me,” I retorted, unable to conceal a note of smugness.
“Perhaps not.”
I curled up on the sofa at a safe distance from Casimir and sipped my coffee, my face turned toward the sunlight streaming in through the window.
The weather was so lovely I could almost forget the horrors that awaited us that evening.
Mustering up my courage, I dared a glance at Casimir, his golden skin warm in the morning light streaming in from the high windows.
Casimir caught me looking at him and held my gaze over the rim of his cup. I couldn’t stop the blush that crept up my neck.
“So,” he said. “Tonight.”
A flutter of nerves rippled through me. “Tonight,” I echoed.
I tried not to grimace, but something in my expression must’ve betrayed my panic because Casimir added in a reassuring tone, “Whatever happens tonight, we will get through it.”
I sighed, placing my cup on the coffee table and sinking back into the couch pillows. “I wish we could just stay here all day.”
Casimir’s smile turned impish. “We can, if you like.”
My face heated. “I didn’t mean—for that reason.”
He laughed quietly, watching me from his repose on the opposite end of the sofa. “You don’t have to go to the ball tonight. In fact, it would be far safer for you to avoid it—”
“What, stay here and let you go into the lion’s den alone?” I rolled my eyes at him. “I don’t think so.”
“But unlike you, I’m equipped to go into the lion’s den,” he murmured while tracing the length of my arm with his knuckles. “After all, I’m a lion, too.”
I snorted. “If you’re a lion, what does that make me?”
“That’s a good question,” he said, his grin broadening. “I don’t know, maybe… a sheep?”
My jaw fell open in outrage. “A sheep? Fuck you!” I reached over to swat at his arm, an action that only elicited more laughter. “I am not a sheep! Can sheep detect glamours and lies? I don’t think so.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, wincing at my slaps. “How about… a honey badger?”
My mouth twisted in suppressed amusement. I suspected he was still teasing me, so I gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. “Possibly… what sort of abilities do they have?”
“Honey badgers are fearless in the face of much larger predators.” He leaned in to cage me in between his arms and pressing his lips to the hollow of my throat, making my breath hitch.
I was sure he could feel my heart pounding against his chest. “They can even kill venomous snakes. And they have sharp claws beneath all that fur, which you might not expect, considering how fluffy and cuddly they look—”
I wriggled against his arms, twisting enough to glare up at him. “I resent being called cuddly or fluffy,” I growled.
He chuckled into my hair. “Do you accept the title of honey badger? Or will you be a sheep?”
I tried to jab him in the ribs again, but he caught my hand and dragged it to his mouth, his teeth sinking around one finger. Heat spread across my stomach and coiled low in my belly at the contact.
“Never,” I breathed.
“You always require so much persuading,” he purred, snaking a hand beneath my low back to draw me closer to him.
He pressed kisses to the nape of my neck, his lips trailing down to the hollow of my throat as his fingers slid down my back to rest just beneath the band of my underwear.
I bowed into his touch, dragging my fingers through his riotous hair, tugging him closer.
His hand did not delve lower than my waistband, despite my arching my hips to give him better access. He drew back to kiss me again, his silken tongue darting out to tangle with mine. His lips were ravenous and demanding, and I met them with equal ferocity.
A slow, delicious heat kindled beneath my skin, my nerves firing at each point of contact where our bodies met, and still it was not enough.
I needed him closer. To emphasize the point, I pulled his lower lip between my teeth and bit down, hard.
In response, he growled and lifted my hips high enough to divest me of my jeans. He then hitched my legs up over his hips, wrapping them around his lower back.
My blood ignited at the closeness, at the intensity of the friction as his hips ground into my center, eliciting a gasp from my lips.
“You’ll be the death of me, I swear it,” he murmured against my throat.
“Can Daemons even die?” I teased, breathless.
“Of course we can.”