Chapter 22
Reva
This library is something else. I get lost a half dozen times before I finally give up trying to find the books I’m searching for and wind up staring out the window at the street.
“It’s changed a lot in the past ten years.” Torin’s deep voice startles me into dropping one of the random books I did manage to find onto the floor.
“Have you spent much time here?” I ask as he steps up beside me, his arm brushing mine.
“I lived here for a few years when I was younger,” he says.
“Oh really?” I look up at him, but he keeps his attention on the window. Judging by the scowl on his face, he doesn’t seem to have happy memories of this place. “What did it used to be like?”
“The magic wasn’t so in your face as it is now and people like Jack’s family didn’t have quite the same level of influence,” he replies.
“How about your family?” I ask, realising that I haven’t heard him mention them.
Torin shrugs. “They’re probably still around somewhere. We don’t have a relationship.” He folds his arms and his skin brushes mine again.
It’s very distracting having him so close.
The air’s thick with the scent of cloves and his body heat is travelling along my arm.
I wait to see if he’s going to add any more detail about his family, but he remains silent.
To save us from the strained silence that follows, I find myself blurting out the first shit that comes into my head.
“Does Jack’s mother always look at you like she did earlier?”
Torin glances down at me in surprise. “LIke what?”
I don’t formulate the thought before it’s already slipping out. “Like you’re a sentient slap of meat she’d quite like to spank.”
He blinks. I blink. We’re both blinking fools, caught out by my honesty.
Then Torin tips his head back, letting out a rumbling laugh that leaves me warm and tingling all over.
I feel a little flushed and almost like I’m drunk on his laughter and I find myself shifting closer until our arms are pressed together.
“I’ve known Jack since we were children,” he admits. “His family weren’t always the family. Back in the day, they were still powerful, still influential, but nothing like they are now. Still, they couldn’t have been more different than my own.”
“How did you and Jack meet?” I decide to steer the conversation away from the sore spot that seems to be his own familial situation.
I’m imagining the two of them as schoolboys who couldn’t be more different.
I picture Jack egging Torin on while he displays some ridiculous feat of strength, like moving a statue just to confuse their teachers.
“I pickpocketed him,” Torin replies. “I used to be a lot smaller than I am now and happened to be working the street where he used to live. Jack seemed an easy mark, one of those people that’s entirely clueless about their surroundings.”
Huh, that wasn’t what I was expecting him to say at all. Then I remember Jack’s words about this city, how it’s a place of extremes, and I wonder if Torin was on the other end to Jack.
“Anyway,” he continues. “I managed to get a good haul off him and then a few days later, I saw him again. After it had happened a few times, I realised he was letting me steal from him. His pockets were filled with a stupid amount of still-warm pies half the time and with enough coins to cover me on the other days.”
“How old were you both?” I ask. I don’t know why, but I’m sorely tempted to lean my head on Torin’s arm since we’re both still positioned so that we’re watching out of the window.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “Maybe ten or so.”
So young. Even younger than I was when I was left to fend for myself, and that was hard enough.
“Then one day, I went home and found Jack just sitting there waiting for me. I thought I was done for and that he was bound to bring the city watch down on me, but he didn’t.”
“What was he doing there?” I glance up at him just in time to see his expression soften as his lips twitch again.
“He’d brought a picnic. Insisted we eat it together.” He lets out a low chuckle that I can feel in my chest. “I couldn’t get rid of him after that.”
He glances down at me before gently lifting my hand higher so he can see the book I’m clutching to my chest. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Mate bonds,” I blurt. My gut clenches as soon as the words are out, but Torin doesn’t flinch.
For a moment, I wonder if I was mistaken on that first day on the ship when we made contact and Torin told me I’d marked him.
“Do you still feel Kit?” he asks.
I briefly touch my chest before nodding. “It’s fainter than before, but it’s still there.”
Torin’s eyebrows shoot up and a flash of panic fills his expression, there and gone in a moment.
“I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” I tell him as I squeeze his arm. “Aster’s is fainter too.”
And, despite the fizzy sensation currently running through my fingertips where they’re touching his arm, I can’t feel the same connection to Torin.
Sure, something about him brings out my teasing side, the side that wants to provoke him and have him wrap his arm around me in equal measure. And for his part, there’s something in his expression that has my face and chest growing warmer by the second.
Hunger.
Not too dissimilar from the way Jack’s mother looked at both him and Aster.
That thought instantly puts a dampener on the direction my thoughts are spiralling in. Although, for me at least, it’s not Torin’s impressive biceps or his rock-hard arse that captures most of my attention. Instead, it’s all of the surprisingly squidgy layers underneath.
The granny glasses, the odd little phrases, the general protectiveness over anyone and everyone. He’s always the first with a blanket when it’s chilly and a hot meal if he thinks you haven’t eaten recently enough.
And I never realised any of those things would be attractive or something I’m into.
But it seems I’m learning about myself every day.
It turns out when all those squidgy layers are wrapped up in a Torin-shaped package, I’m very much into it.
He twists his body around, forcing me to take a step back until I’m pressed up against the nearest bookshelf.
Two thick arms reach out and bracket me on either side as he gazes down at me and my breath hitches.
Torin’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk and my insides flutter as if they have a direct link to his expression.
It’s unfair really. He really is devastating up close like this and something about the heaviness in his expression has me shifting from foot to foot.
Am I turned on by having him pressing his thick body up close to me like this?
I think I am.
If anything, Torin’s expression darkens further as his nostrils flare. “Feeling all right there? You’re looking a little warm.”
“Mhm.” My brain isn’t working quite right and he lets out another decadent chuckle.
“So, mate bonds,” he rasps. “Let’s see if we can’t find you the right books.”
He steps back, leaving cool air to fill the sudden gap between us. I blink, as it works instantly to cool my ardour.
Stumbling along behind Torin, I feel as though I’m in a trance.
He seems entirely unbothered, plucking books from shelves until he has enough to build a small wall.
We then return to the study room, where our reappearance goes entirely unnoted.
Aster’s engrossed in his task and Jack is making an unsuccessful attempt at building a tower of cards.
Torin pulls up his chair beside me, his heavy thigh resting against mine. It sends my filthy mind reeling as I wonder which other parts of him might lie thick and heavy against me.
“You might need to adjust the direction of your thoughts,” Torin murmurs close to my ear. “If you want either of us to have any hope of concentrating on anything beyond your delicious scent.”
“My scent?” I murmur, recalling too late how his nostrils were flaring while he had me pushed up against the bookcase. “You can... scent me?”
“Your arousal,” he purrs. “But now’s not the time for distraction. You’ve got plenty of reading to do on mate bonds.”
He’s enjoying this. Maybe it’s payback for me squeezing his arse without warning. I glare at him for a moment before glancing at Aster who’s watching our exchange with an amused expression.
“Made another conquest?” he asks. “I’m not surprised, judging by the way he can’t take his eyes off you when you’re in the same room.”
I snort, but it seems he isn’t finished. “I’m a little jealous I don’t have his sense of smell.”
Cocking my head to one side, I inspect his expression and ask him in the Drakmal common tongue. “Hold on, you understood that? How did you understand that—” Torin can apparently smell my arousal... something I don’t want to actually give voice to or my face might actually burst into flames.
“I fixed him up with a universal translator,” Jack says casually.
My eyes widen as I let out a little shriek of excitement. “But that’s amazing!”
Then, remembering exactly what Aster just overhead, my cheeks heat again. But he doesn’t look horrified. Instead, his eyes are dancing and he gives me a lopsided smile as Torin nudges the book in front of me.
“Concentrate. We won’t get the chance to come back here again, so whatever you don’t read now will go unread.”
Oddly enough, his chiding tone has me squirming even more in my seat and Torin smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He’s right, though and so I suck up my lusty thoughts and focus my attention on the mountain of books in front of me.
I’ve barely got through the first couple when Aster drums the tabletop with his fingertips triumphantly.
“Found something?” Jack asks, leaning forward eagerly until he’s peering over Aster’s shoulder. “Samuel Northcliff. This is one of the guys?”
“Her partner.”
I nod at the others. It’s not the sorceress herself, but it’s something.
Jack hums, resting his chin on Aster’s shoulder. “Yeah, I recognise the name. He’s a low-powered second son of a third-rate family.” He snorts. “That’s how my mother would describe them, anyway.”
He claps his hands together, grabbing the magic book and dropping it into his pocket. “They’ll definitely be at the dinner tonight.” He slaps Aster on the shoulder. “Nicely done.”
“So we actually have to go to this thing?” Torin grumbles.
Jack claps his hands together. “Of course. We need an opportunity to question this Northcliff person. Plus, it’ll piss off my mother to no end.”
Torin lets out a long-suffering sigh, before casually resting his meaty palm on my thigh. “I suppose we’d better prepare ourselves. Something tells me this is going to be a shitshow.”