“My grandfather was opposed. But my father didn’t care.”
Interesting.
“How did they meet?”
“A long time ago, my father and aunt were invited to the Deniauds for the weekend.”
The Deniauds—my mother. It was hard to keep myself together and not shatter as the memory of her smiling face flashed across my mind. I pushed the thought of her from my head. It would break me if I let myself dwell on my family.
“According to him, he helped her gather flowers. According to her, he was being an ass and refusing to help. He pretended to be a servant, and for a while there she had no idea she was being courted by one of the Upper Ranks.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. It sounded sweet and yetdangerous…
Even I knew it was dangerous for the servants and upper ranks to mix like that.
Anxiously toying with the end of my braid, I hardened my features and pretended to look somewhere else. This wasn’t going the way I thought it would, the way I wanted it to. I wantedto hold on to my anger at what was happening to me. Instead, I felt awful.
Tabitha Crowther.
It was exactly as Penn had said. Her spirit was everywhere.
I wished to remain cold and aloof and not be reminded that it was either her or me. And she was becoming real to me. Too real.
Graysen shifted his weight, drawing my attention back to him. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his dark-wash jeans, which made the t-shirt pull tight against his biceps. Sunlight glanced off the sparkly pink boots I’d pimped with glitter and gems and a gold gel pen. “There’s somewhere else I think you’ll appreciate,” he said in his low, gravelly voice. “It has lots of your favorite things. Paper and ink.”
The library!
Infused with excitement, I almost jittered on the spot. The rough patch of glittery gems abraded the sole of my foot as I tapped the toe of his boot. “Show me the way, Mr. Dickface.”
18
Nelle
Iinhaled the scent of ink and paper, and it was glorious.
The Crowthers’ library was enormous. It was easily five times the size of my family’s back home. The space took up two levels of the Keep with books lining the walls, and since there were so many of them, tall shelves had been set up in rows much like a mortal library. Up above were tapestries. The images on the time-aged textiles were of our gods, places I didn’t know, and battlefields. Perhaps the tapestries illustrated the Crowthers’ history, captured by faded threads and intricate stitching.
The wall facing the inner courtyard rose in a tall sweep of stained glass. I turned slowly, breath catching at the massive mural. The moon hung suspended in a violet sky on one side, the rich darkness stretching across the pane to where the vibrant sun unfurled in burnished copper on the other. The two halves met over a ridge of moody, pine-cloaked peaks, crowned by a halo of glass-cut stars and shards of dawn. Midmorning lightstreamed through, slanting down to wash the floor in soft purples and buttery yellows.
Surrounded by the familiar world of ancient tomes and modern books, I felt more settled at that moment than any other since I’d arrived on the estate.
Sage stalked off, sniffing out the corners of the library, when suddenly I saw a cat perched on an armchair. Its fur hackled and spine arched as it hissed and yowled at being discovered by the beast.
“Shit, Flossy,”I heard behind me.
My wraith-wolf gave a delighted bark to find prey and give chase.
“Sage!” I cried, worried for Flossy as the wraith-wolf charged, his tail wagging and silver eyes bright.
But the cat leaped from the chair, darting past in a streak of ginger. It wove through Graysen’s legs, leaving fur on his dark jeans, as it escaped out the library door. Graysen quickly shut the door, and Sage had to end his pursuit. His claws grated along the stone floor as he came to an ungainly halt. He whined pitifully to be denied the chase.
Itskedhim.
And he gave me a disappointed huff before shaking his fur and prowling off.
My gaze darted to Graysen, flitting away before he met it. Cats. Somehow it seemed weird that the Crowthers had something as ordinary and sweet as cats.
Drifting deeper into the room, my bare feet padded across sun-warmed stone so ancient it hailed from another era, and I felt its power, a low vibration in my bones. Though my wyrm might be gone, the adamere threaded through the Keep called out to me. A soft lullaby sang its way into my mind, whispering that we were cut from the same ilk.
