I jerk my head up to him in shock. We have humans here as workers, but they are treated well. Most prefer life here.
“It’s different there,” Cillian adds. “Humans are used for whatever the vampires want, and humans have no say.”
“How do humans end up there?” Why would anyone willingly go to a world like that?
“Apollyon has never forgiven Elohim. He turned his people against the humans. They aren’t just a food source, they’re the enemy. Many of the humans there were manipulated or stolen by vampires that have snuck back to Elohim’s world, but some humans go there in death.”
“But Enzo, the Varethiel guards—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. I don’t know any of them, but they didn’t seem to fit what he’s describing.
“Yes, the original demons are irredeemable in their anger and vengeance. But some of the made-vampires remember being human and disagree with the treatment of their former kind. It’s actually why Aiden opened Varethiel to a few who have proven themselves.” He pauses, thinking. “It was a risky decision. But helping those that wanted out of Alhena—I admire it.”
His eyes turn towards me for the first time. “Just be careful if”—he hesitates—“when you have to go there.” We stand there, staring at each other for what feels like minutes but could have been only a few heartbeats.
I’m not sure where he means. Alhena or Varethiel. The words are on the tip of my tongue that he doesn’t have to worry about either. I have no intention of becoming Castara’s queen, requiring me to go on any type of royal visits. It is on the tip of my tongue to tell him. To share with him my biggest secret.
Trust no one but the future king.The witch’s words ring through my mind, and my lips stay sealed.
He blinks after a minute and returns his attention back to the tome on his table.
I watch him read for a moment before I move on to the next page. A detailed account of each world. I scan the words, knowing they won’t give me any insight into what I’m seeking but still fascinated by the accounts. I roll the scroll back in on itself and return it to the bookshelf for another.
“So Cyndr…” The little dryrd has been on my mind.
“He seems taken with you.” A small chuckle leaves Cillian’s throat as he shuffles through another cabinet and bringing another set of tomes to the table.
“What’s his story?” I question as I return the parchment I just looked over with no success.
“A particularly brutal storm hit the lands. It was one of the worst to date. Many of the animals had to flee for safety toother parts of the kingdom. I traveled with my father to Aquaria to check on how bad the damage was. Just like the other areas it was devastated. Rocks had fallen, stopping the water ways, preventing the rivers from flowing. The droughts in this particular area came later, so there were large areas that were nothing but flooded waterways.” He takes a deep breath, flipping through a few pages, lost in thought.
“I found Cyndr half drowned in one of the flooded ravines. I almost missed him, but the sun came out just long enough to reflect the gold on his wings. I was able to swim out to him. He didn’t even fight. He’d given up by that point.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know if it was from being in the water so long or from something else, but he’s never gotten his fire back. He wouldn’t have survived alone in the lands. He was too weak, and the others had left him. I couldn't do the same.”
“So he lives in the library now?” I asked, having abandoned my search, listening to the story.
“He stayed in my room at first but never settled. One day I visited the library, and he immediately went to the fire vessel. It was the first time he had left my side since I pulled him from the water.” Cillian’s face lights at the memory.
“I woke up the next morning and he wasn’t in my room. I panicked at first. Until I found him curled up at the archive’s door. I went that day and had part of the door removed and replaced with the smaller door so he could come and go as he wished. He rarely leaves now. Never leaves actually.”
“So he sticks to the library toharasspeople?” I joke, amused at Caspien’s warning that the little creature could cause much harm.
His smile drops for a moment before he recovers it. “He doesn’t like many Fae. But he liked you.”
“Who wouldn’t. I’m wonderful,” I joke, calling on a little bit of the confidence Ophe has pushed on me.
“True…” he murmurs. Our gazes lock.
Then he returns to the book in front of him.
Cillian and I go back and forth between the shelves and the drafting tables for at least an hour in silence. The space is small and each time he returns a book to the shelf, he touches me in some small way. At first I think it’s just an accident, a subtle brush of our arms or shoulders as he turns to go around me, but the longer we’re down here, the bolder his touch, a hand to my lower back as he walks by, a gentle squeeze on my hip.
Each time my body warms, and my magic rushes to the spot he’s found. I turn back towards the bookshelf to return another useless scroll and take a slow, deep breath, trying to calm my body down.
My arm is still tingling from his fingers running down the bare skin when I start to skim through the next scroll. It is an account of the birth of the first Vaylor Prince and the first Daughter of Gaia. Parchment after parchment of scribe documentation of the births of each heir to take the throne.
I flip to the last page, the ink fresh compared to the centuries old chronicles of the earlier pages. I read through the dramatic birth of the first Fae Twins and the chaos they brought with them. And then I’m brought to the last entry of the scroll.
I gasp as I read the title to the start of our birthing story.
“Did you find something?” Cillian asks, stepping into my back, hands casually resting on my upper arms as he peers over my shoulders.
