“Of course.” Valen’s smile sharpens. “I need time to go into the library, and there’s no way either of you are following me in or roaming freely. Not after that little stunt you pulled at the park. I’ll take you to your rooms and ward them while I search.”
Lucas voice snaps through the office. “Prisoners, then.”
“If that’s what you’d like to call it.”
My mind races. I sit up and lean forward. “Valen, I can help you. It’s not like I haven’t been in there before.”
“Hm.” Those icy eyes slide over me once. “No.”
My heart plummets. Valen stands swiftly, abandoning his glass on the ink blotter. Lucas and I share one long, lingering look in which a thousand unspoken words are hissed angrily at each other through a series of facial expressions. His lips tighten slightly.No fucking way are we doing this.
My brow arches.It’s fine. I’ve got this.
His jaw flickers.I don’t believe that. You’re not telling me something. I’m unhappy and I am going to explode hot rage all over this stupid blueblood weaver’s house.
My eyes flick over him.Keep it the fuck together.
His fingers spasm, teeth grinding with a click.THE WALLS WILL BE RED WITH HIS BLOOD. HIS INSIDES WILL BE HIS OUTSIDES AND I’LL RIP OUT THAT ASSHOLE’S SOUL?—
My eyes flare.Holy fuck, Lucas! Pull yourself together.My fingers curl into a fist.I will hogtie you and throw your ass over my shoulder if I have to.My lips purse before I smooth it all out, my hands relaxing.We are doing this. You will trust me. End of discussion.
“Shall we then?”
Valen’s smooth, cool voice forces a mask I haven’t used in a long time over my face. It’s rusty, and I’ve grown out of it, but my Astrum Order face shutters in place. It’s all pleasant, non-threatening smile and delicate, graceful movement as I glide to standing like I’m wearing an elegant evening gown. “Of course.”
I practically float to Valen’s side, shooting Lucas one last warning glare before sliding my hand into the crook of his arm. “Come, Lucas.”
I pray he falls into the role we’re playing. We’ve worked so well together for so long that it should be as simple as breathing. There should be no doubt in my mind that he knows it’s not real and that he will follow along.
And yet.
Lucas pauses, his eyes focusing on where my hand rests on Valen’s arm. I wonder if he noticed how easily I slipped to Valen’s side, if he connected that this move was practically bred into us. Countless arm slips. Countless promenades together.
The doubt niggles at me and I’m unsure what it is that I doubt: the lie I’m telling Valen… or the lie I’m telling Lucas.
It should be easy. But it’s not. My heart flutters, my gaze flicking and locking with Valen’s. The way his mouth softens slightly makes it all too real.
Valen takes a step and I follow without hesitation. I glance back at Lucas one last time before dragging my gaze away.
CHAPTER 12
The hallway Valen leads us through is familiar and I brighten when I realize where we are. It’s the same guest wing where I used to sleep back when I would run away from the Archweaver estate. Rossana let me choose a room to call my own and I sprinted to the one at the end of the hall, where the rose garden was the thickest and the sprites bountiful. The little creatures’ dedicated care enticed the roses to bloom all year, the air thick with the delectable scent because of it.
I’d spend hours on the balcony, basking in the sunlight and breathing in the magic. Valen’s room was across the gardens, and I’d whisper messages for him in the beating wings of butterflies. It’s an old magic trick, one that was deemed childish and fell out of favor centuries ago. But Viola always taught me that even the smallest of enchantments can hold importance. Bugs’ bodies are too small to carry more than a few words for a precious few minutes, but the magic is so delicate and whisper-small that it can slip through most wards.
It was the perfect, poetic way to confess my love for Valen for the first time. With my heart thumping against my ribs, I whispered those three little words and watched the orange wings beat through the warm summer air. I could barely breathewhile Valen leaned casually on the railing of his balcony, gently cupped the living thing in his hand, and held it up to his ear.
His magic exploded, an ice bridge erupting to life between our two railings. I screamed at him that he’d slip and fall, but he ran across anyway to return the sentiment against my laughing lips.
My heart painfully aching, I glance up at Valen when his fine-boned hand lands on the familiar doorhandle. His blue eyes flick towards me and I wish I could gaze into his mind to read his thoughts.
The hinges don’t squeak. Of course not. The house would never be allowed to decay in such a way. He nods towards the open door. “Yours, of course.”
A smile comes unbidden, memories sweeping me away far too easily. He warms, but only slightly. He steps away, turning towards Lucas. “You can stay next door.”
With a flick of Valen’s wrist, the door behind Lucas slams open. Those usually warm, honey eyes harden and fear drips down my chest when Lucas snarls, “Absolutely fucking not.”
Valen stands between us, his hands sliding into his slack pockets. It’s a deceptively casual stance that immediately straightens my spine. It’s a fighting stance. Only the Elite of the Order can duel while their body is so relaxed and hands unusable. The few and the powerful. I have no doubt that Valen can slaughter Lucas while his rings are not at full power. Valen’s father practically invented this dueling style. It’s an art form, really.
