Chapter 66
Sebastian drowned happily in a haze of lilac, honeysuckle, and wild blonde curls.
He shifted, the small bed creaking. Sunlight streaked through the branches far above the archives, its fractured pattern spilling into the tiny research room bedroom.
Ciana grumbled. She was nestled on his chest, as close to him as she could get. He couldn’t stop the drowsy smile tugging on his mouth.
“Is it already morning?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Unfortunately, yes.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, dragging in a deep breath of her deliciously sweet scent. “But we don’t have to get up quite yet.”
He was exhausted. His blood heated as the memories from last night—and earlier this morning, he supposed—flooded back. Memories of desperate touches and delicate kisses, of whispered confessions and fulfilled promises.
Ciana lifted her head, as if she could read his thoughts. Her expression was still clouded with sleep, but mischief gleamed in her amber eyes.
“I don’t want to get up,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to sleep any longer, either.”
Sebastian lifted a brow. “Oh?” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “What do you want to do instead?”
Pink filled Ciana’s freckled cheeks. She bit her full lip, lashes fluttering.
Sebastian’s exhaustion vanished into the morning air.
His embrace around her tightened. He smiled at her quiet yelp as he surged beneath her, flipping them both so her back was on the feather mattress, his knee between her legs.
All that soft, luscious skin wrapped around him, under him, burrowed so deep inside him he feared he’d never get this feeling out.
Not that he would ever want to.
He placed a soft kiss to her collarbone, gliding his nose up her neck. Her hair was wild around her head, tickling his face, and gods, did he love it so much. His teeth nipped at the lobe of her ear, chuckling when her breath hitched.
“Who would’ve thought you would be so insatiable, love.”
Ciana squeaked. “Making up for lost time, I guess,” she said breathlessly. She moved her leg, dragging her heel up the back of his thigh.
Sebastian groaned.
He was about to bring his lips to hers, to swallow all that sweetness so this moment would never be forgotten, when a knock rapped on the study room door.
He froze. Ciana froze. He pulled back, finding her wide-eyed stare.
“Sir Sebastian?” said a muffled voice. “It’s Archivist Eliza. I have a servant here with breakfast and the additional texts you requested last night.”
Shit. But even as his heart thudded in his chest, Sebastian couldn’t help his grin.
“How suspicious would it be if we told her to come back in an hour?”
Ciana smacked his chest. “Very suspicious!” she hissed, squirming beneath him. “I have to get dressed.” She bucked her hips and Sebastian groaned, stars mottling his vision.
“Keep moving like that,” he murmured, “and I will never let you leave this bed.”
She stilled, cheeks flushing pink again. Sebastian grinned. “I’m just kidding. You’re right.” He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Mostly.”
He pushed off her, feeling the loss of her skin on his like a blow to the chest, and was about to damn it all to Enfara right there—
The archivist knocked again. “Sir Sebastian? Lady Ciana?”
“One moment!” Shit, where were his pants? He scanned the floor, snapping his trousers up from where they’d been discarded a few paces away. His shirt wasn’t far behind, and he slid that over his chest as Ciana slipped from the bed and raced to the bathroom.
“Your dress is out here, Cee.”
“Just answer the door!”
Sebastian chuckled, picking up her dress and undergarments—all that gods-damned pink lace still making his mind stutter—from the floor and tossing it inside the bedroom. He closed the door, padding quietly over the wooden floors.
The archivist greeted him with a polite smile. “Good morning!” Her eyes darted over his shoulder, taking in the study room. “I hope we are not intruding…?”
Heat burned up Sebastian’s throat, but he returned her easy smile.
“No. Not at all. Please, come in.” He gestured the archivist and the two servants with her inside.
The first deposited a tray laden with breads and fruits and cheeses on the table.
The second carried a wicker crate, filled to the brim with ancient-looking scrolls and texts.
“I do appreciate the notes you gave me last night,” the archivist said.
“I am glad you were able to narrow your search.” She gestured to the crate.
“This is what I was able to find last evening and this morning. There are still a few more places I can search, but I didn’t want to delay in bringing you these in the meantime. ”
“Thank you, Eliza.” Sebastian smiled. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. We very much appreciate your help.”
The archivist dipped her head. “No trouble at all,” she said breezily. “My king commanded that I help you in whatever way I can. It’s my pleasure to do so.”
With a final thanks, the archivist and servants swept from the study room, the door clicking closed softly behind them.
The bedroom door creaked open. Ciana stepped lightly out, back in her dress, hair wild and smile sheepish. Her expression ignited when she saw the tray of food on the table.
“Just what I needed,” she groaned, nearly leaping forward to snatch a flakey pastry from the tray and stuffing it into her face without a single care in the world.
Sebastian’s chest warmed so much he thought he would spark into flames. He walked to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Once we’re done eating,” he murmured into her hair, “we have some new homework to get through.” He gestured to the crate on the floor.
Ciana paused her chewing then sagged, groaning again. “I guess the bubble couldn’t last forever.”
“Oh, you misunderstand me, Ms. Visseau,” Sebastian murmured into her ear. “The sooner we get through this stack, the sooner we can continue where we left off this morning.”
She swallowed thickly, wide amber eyes meeting his. “There can’t possibly be more to show me.”
Sebastian’s core tightened. Gods, if she only knew.
“There is no limit to what I wish to show you, Ciana,” he said. Heat flared in her eyes and she turned—
He stepped away from her, though it took a piece of him away to do it. “But we have to do what we came here to do first.”
Her answering whimper tested his resolve, but if there was one thing he was good at, it was being patient.
“How many more of these do we have to read?”
Ciana’s whine pulled Sebastian’s attention from the book in his lap. He smiled. “Until the crate is empty.”
They both glanced at the crate. They’d made good progress, for sure. But at least a dozen scrolls and half a dozen books remained. Thankfully, most of them could be skimmed, clear on the surface they had nothing of what they were looking for.
A few, though, were interesting, even if not entirely helpful.
The one Sebastian was currently consuming was written by someone who claimed to be a scribe during the First War and responsible for recording the movements of the gods.
It was a history that, whether through time or other forces, was unknown to Onita, and it fascinated him.
Andrian would love this. Sebastian loved to read, but he preferred fictional tales. It was Andrian who always reveled in the true stories lost to the depths of time.
He grimaced at the thought of his oldest friend. Who knew where Andrian was or who surrounded him. Sebastian only hoped—and not just for his queen’s sake—that wherever he was, he was fighting back in every way he knew how.
Ciana rummaged through the crate. She stood up, hands on her hips, letting out a huff. “None of these look even remotely interesting to me.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Can’t even bother pretending, Goldie?”
She glanced at him. His spine straightened at the way the corner of her mouth tipped up, eyes glinting. “Not when there’s something else I would much rather be doing.”
He lifted a brow. “Something?”
She hummed, taking a tentative step toward him. “I just have so many questions still,” she said, tone deceptively innocent as she fluttered her lashes. “So many things I want to learn. Don’t you want to teach me?”
Gods. Sebastian’s grip around the pages of his book tightened. He shifted in his chair, his pants a touch too tight.
“Haven’t had your fill of lessons for the day?”
Ciana responded with a coy shake of her head, and Sebastian’s resolve snapped right there.
He tipped his head back, closing his eyes and dragging in a deep inhale. “Trust me when I say,” he said, “that there is nothing I would rather do more right now.”
“Then just do it.”
Sebastian groaned, toying with the open book in his lap. Fuck, he wanted to abandon it all, give up on all this research and just fall back into her.
He met her gaze. “You read one more scroll. I’ll finish this book. Then I promise you, love—the lessons will never stop.”
Her cheeks flushed that beautiful shade of pink, and thankfully she nodded. Snatching up a small scroll from the crate, she retreated to the plush sofa, curling up with her feet under her.
Sebastian took a few more steadying breaths, his heart thumping dangerously in his chest, before he could return his attention to the book still open in his lap.
He flipped the page, scanning its contents.
His breath caught in his throat.
An illustration inked on the cream canvas paper, perfectly preserved for five millennia by whatever magic imbued this place, rooted him to his chair.
The caption below it, scrawled in the common language of the continent, had Sebastian planting his feet firmly on the floor.
“Sebastian?”
Sebastian could hardly breathe. Could hardly think, even as he read the inked script.
The weapon was forged by the gods at the end of the First War, before Zadione’s sacrifice made it unnecessary.
I was honored to be there at its forging, to witness the cast of magic from the gods.
It is simple in its design, yet perfect in its elegance.
Though I have not seen it since the war ended.
I hope one day to lay my eyes upon it again.
“This is it,” Sebastian finally whispered, no more than an exhaled breath.
“What?” He could hear Ciana move closer to him but couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Is that—”
Sebastian nodded and met her gaze, seeing all his panicked realization blink back at him from Ciana’s amber eyes.
Reality slammed down around them like a curtain of steel.
He gasped, doubling over. The book fell from his hands, hitting the floor with a soft thump. Sebastian clutched his chest, heart racing. Deep inside him, tucked in a forgotten place beneath his ribs, magic flared to life.
“Mariah?” He didn’t know why he thought it. The bonds didn’t move words like that. He was so shocked, so taken aback, that he couldn’t stop the impulse.
So much raged down that woven bridge of light. It was stretched thin, but still strong. Confusion and shock and pain and anger and rage.
“I’m fine. I promise. I have my magic back. I’ll reach out when I can.”
Sebastian’s eyes flew wide. That was her voice. She’d answered him. How was that possible?
Just as abruptly as it had returned, their bond fell quiet.
“Sebastian?” Small hands gripped his face. He found Ciana’s eyes again.
“Mariah’s magic is back. But she closed the bond before I could tell her.”
Ciana blinked. “She did it? She’s back?”
Sebastian nodded. “We have to summon Cielle. Immediately.”