Our time in this castle has turned Titus from a block of granite into shale—flaking layers that Selene’s chipping away to find his fossilized heart so she can shatter it.
Is my brother’s happiness something I desire? Yes. Gods, yes!
Selene’s hands don’t love you; they kill you.
Brother, a knife cannot become a needle that mends you. This bond with Selene will stab everything we love to death.
Yes, mating bonds take precedence over marriage contracts, but this is… disastrous.
I watched Titus stumble, even fall, when Everett forced his magic into him. I can’t let him fall again because this stumble will end with a knife in his back.
I know Galen. He’s ruthless, and he’d give zero fucks about the mating bond law.
Sweat drips down the nape of my neck. I push the cloak off my head, needing more air to cool me down. I walk the winding streets, exquisitely paved with stones. Each step is harmonized, unlike running through dirt and debris on the battlefield. It’s unusual to be surrounded by walls and not trees or camping tents.
Crossing the pathway to avoid the loud tavern, I glare at the drunken patrons laughing outside. “Why couldn’t it be you?” I mumble as I spot a female vampire.
You would have been easy to bond with.
Shaking my head, I pick up my pace. “Mated to a fae,” I hiss under my breath.
I’ve never fucked a fae, never had pillow talk with one. It’s not that I hate them; I love women of all shapes, forms, colors, sizes, and species. The more hips, the better! I just haven’t had the time to wander into a fae tavern, and most fae women on the battlefield only want to fuck their swords up my ass.
No, thank you.
I’m reluctant to risk a hair on Titus’s body. What I’m about to do is going to piss him off.
That’s okay. I’ll sacrifice his friendship to save his life.
“There you are,” I whisper when I spot the library.
It’s a tall building, with four floors framed in black stone columns that are lined in vines and roses. Its darkness slows my steps; the sheer magnitude of the place makes me feel stupid, unworthy to step inside.
“You’ve overcome that weakness,” I growl.
Have you?
Yes, that’s why Titus gave me this mission. He knows books don’t scare me!
My head tips back as I study the ominous building. The light of the moon bounces off the angled roof, making it feel like the tip of a sword swinging down upon me.
I touch my dagger for comfort. The sad truth is, I am stupid. I can read, but I take longer. The words used to appear backwards when I was a child. Titus made me work so hard, and I improved, but then our parents died, and we were tossed to the state. Titus resumed my lessons three years later. We were older, and I was so insecure and embarrassed that I often lashed out at him.
But he dragged me to a hiding spot and helped teach me to see the words properly. Ember found out and helped, too; she stole romance books from the small towns we passed through. She forced me to read it out loud as she lay back and daydreamed of a star-crossed lover who would take her far away from the battlefield.
All those lessons and years of struggle, and I still feel unworthy of holding a book in my hand.
My stomach churns with nerves, and I grab my small bag of dried berries and swallow a mouthful without chewing. I have a nervous habit of snacking in private.
It developed when I was on a scouting mission, deep in enemy territory. I was hiding in a blueberry bush, and when the mission ended, Nero had to roll me out of the secret spot I made because my belly was so full of berries. I always keep a bag of nuts, dried jerky, or berries with me.
Some nights I dreamed of dying in battle, but right before I took my last breath, I fished out my snack bag and gobbled down one last meal.
“Okay, let’s do this.” I shove my snacks back in my pocket and approach the library, ready to commit a crime Titus and Selene didn’t order me to. Instead of looking for Caldara, Iseek something more pressing. Yes, it’s more urgent than this business regarding runes.
The scent of old paper and ink has me craving a vial of blood to wash it away with. I walk up to the desk and drum my fingers on the wood until someone appears.Please be someone hot. I’m a flirt with my eyes. Ladies can’t resist me.
No such luck. An old man rounds the aisle with a dozen books in hand. He spots me through grey eyelashes but makes no haste in coming. Taking his time, he puts the books onto his cart categorically.
