He glances down at me in impatience. “To the library. There’s something I want to check.”
At this time of night, the library is closed. Empty. An ideal location to meet an unmarried woman without danger of tainting her reputation.
My fingers fist the front of his sunset-colored robe. “We have things to discuss.”
“Whatever it is, it will have to wait.”
“It can’t wait.”
His eyes kindle in warning. “Sarai.”
“Notus.”
It is then his attention drops, locking on to my bracelet. His gaze darkens. The sight billows through me with breathless heat.
“It’s a symbol,” I explain, in anticipation of his question. “To represent our engagement.” I’m pleased by my unaffected tone. Even I find it believable. “You did gift it to me, after all.”
“I did,” he replies slowly. “I didn’t realize you still had it in your possession.”
I’m suddenly aware of our proximity, the press of his hard thighs against mine, how the warm air feathers against my skin, ebbing and flowing in time with his breath. I have been here before. The most deliriously joyful time of my life. It does not bode well that already I struggle to keep my distance.
“As much as I’d like to discuss your choice of jewelry,” he says, “there’s something I need to do. It can’t be delayed.”
After a moment, I release him. Of course, he is going to meet this mystery woman. I am imagining his hands on her hips, her fingers inhis hair, their mouths soft and open, mated fully. I crush a hand to my chest, above my thundering heart. “What is so important at a time like this?” My traitorous voice wavers. “I am your betrothed.”
The South Wind studies me with too much knowing. For once, it does not feel so terrible to lower my guard. I trust him, though I fear it may be to my own detriment.
Tugging me into a dimly lit recess, Notus drops his voice, broad frame blocking the guests milling about from my view. “Did you notice that Prince Balior disappeared during the ball?”
I nod. “You think he went to the library?”
“Either the library or the labyrinth.”
I’m so relieved that I barely flinch when he demands, “What did the prince say to you earlier?”
“Nothing of importance. Just that he hopes we’ll be able to discuss this whole misunderstanding.” I hesitate, unsure if I should go on, but then I say, “He believes we are an excellent match and that our realms are stronger together than apart. He wants to discuss how we might move forward.”
The South Wind bristles. The sight pleases me. At least I’m not the only one affected by the sight of him seeking companionship in another. “And what did you say?”
“That I would think about it.”
“And are you?” In the amber glow, flecks of color fracture the dark wells of his eyes. “Thinking about it, that is.”
I frown and glance away. Does he ask only for the sake of Ammara, or something more? “I haven’t decided.”
Notus does not appear particularly satisfied by my answer. “The writing’s on the wall, Sarai. Prince Balior has ulterior motives.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because the Sarai I knew would never have considered making a deal with the enemy.”
His words sting, which must mean they hold some truth. My life was different then. With Notus, I’d felt free. I’d revealed to him a woman hidden deep who yearned only for acceptance. When he wasgone, I wondered if he’d even loved that person—the bright fire of the woman I’d been.
“The Sarai you knew is no more,” I bite out. “Today is all we have. Do you understand?” The South Wind hasn’t the slightest notion of how the curse burdens me. He does not know the dread of each arriving day. He is eternal.
Eventually, he sighs. “I understand.” But it is clear he does not agree with me. “If you want to check the library, we shouldn’t delay.”
We make haste departing the ballroom. Four guards stand sentry at the library. They claim not to have seen Prince Balior, but I can’t be sure that he hasn’t bribed them. Inside the expansive atrium, all is quiet. An air of abandonment shades the area, with its vacated armchairs and extinguished fireplace. No scent of burning. No indication of any darkwalkers near.
