The glass building is shut up tight, the handle cold beneath my grip.
It won’t turn.
Gripping it with both hands, I try to force it, but the damned thing grows spikes that draw blood.
“Let me in.” I demand. “I need to ask?—”
The pane of glass in front of me changes from a rich sapphire blue to blurry but translucent. It’s enough that I can make out North, head bowed as he sprawls across one of thechairs against the far wall. I search for Kyrith, and it takes a second to realise that the reason I can’t find her is because she’s on her knees.
Sucking him off.
Her head doesn’t move, because he’s got it gripped in both hands as he fucks her face in vicious little digs that have got to be bringing tears to her pretty doe eyes. My cock throbs at the visual. Lucky fecking bastard. The image of the Librarian splayed out in front of me, her pretty nipples clamped, hands and ankles chained to a spreader bar behind her as I fuck the haughtiness out of her mouth is one of the few fantasies I’ve let myself indulge in since she gave me that damned contract.
The other is her wearing my collar as I decorate her plush ass with pretty red stripes before I fuck it. Hearing her beg. Then cry. Scream.
I worried, initially, that if she and Lambert had chemistry, she wouldn’t enjoy my particular preferences, but North isn’t going easy on her… That gives me hope.
Stars above. Now isn’t the time to be daydreaming about sharing her with him. I adjust myself reluctantly, gut sinking as I realise what this means.
I…care. I don’t just enjoy her presence…
No. Not going there. Ican’tgo there.
I chase my thoughts back to safer ground with a ruthlessness born of necessity.
I don’t want her. I couldn’t give two shits about her. There are hundreds of other women I’d rather be fucking.
Unfortunately, even I can’t force myself to really believe any of those lies.
She’s not working on solving my curse. Just like she wasn’t yesterday, when she was with Lambert. Something I only know because he was fecking buzzing with excitement this morning. In the three days since we discovered the mutatedruneform on my chest, I’ve spent every second buried in star charts, looking for answers.
I don’t expect her to be doing the same thing all the time. Magic knows, I’ve given her few reasons to. I’ve done my best to tread the line between driving her away to keep her safe and ensuring she never hates me enough to abandon me to my fate. Maybe I fell too deeply to one side. Icy fingers reach into my gut. Maybe she hasn’t even tried.
I know she’s missed sex. That basic human contact is a necessity for her after so long without. Magic, I’d do anything to give her more of it if I could without dooming her. But this is my fecking life. Mybrother’slife.
“Has she actually made any fecking progress?” I demand of the empty garden, but the question comes out more broken than I intend it to. “Or even looked at the bleeding runeform?”
The Arcanaeum hears me—it must—but it doesn’t reply. Likewise, the silhouettes in the Solarium don’t react to my angry outburst. The glass changes colour once again, stealing away the erotic sight of the two of them.
Slamming my hand against the door, I curse. “Let me in there. Please. This is important.”
If Mathias is working on the Ó Rinn curse, then he’s only doing it to gain leverage over my family. There’s not a parent in our bloodline that wouldn’t hand over their soul to save their kids from this. Not a single one of us who wouldn’t sacrifice everything to see the others cured. To stop kids like Jaime from losing their sight.
And the Talcotts are the only ones to blame.
I know better than to accuse Kyrith of breaking her sacred impartiality, but stars above, I don’t trust Dakari as far as I can throw him. His ancestor cast the fecking curse. The rest of his family actively refuses to help lift it and still mock those whotry. Spite is in his blood. So how can I trust him not to sabotage our attempts to break it?
At least I’ve not seen him around since he went off in search of the Librarian’s grimoire.
Small fecking mercies.
One last try at the handle reveals the Arcanaeum isn’t budging, so there’s nothing I can do but grind my teeth and stride away.
Tomorrow. I’ll ask her tomorrow. Right now, my time is better spent dissecting the runeform. If Mathias has already done it, that means it can be done, right?
Twenty-Nine
Jasper
