“I know. How are you feeling? Have you been using your astral powers?”
The hand resting on the side of her neck moved to her nape, his fingers massaging the base of her skull. “I have,” he said. “And I’ve learned it’s excellent for soothing sore muscles…”
Warmth emanated from his fingers, easing her aches. Ava relaxed against him, unable to prevent the breathy sigh from escaping her lips.
“Oh? And how do you do that without burning someone?” she whispered.
Casimir pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. “It’s all about control,” he murmured, his hand moving down her back, to her hip. He pulled her to straddle him, trailing kisses down the side of her neck to her shoulder, then back up again. “Just like I did in the bathtub.”
He sucked the sensitive skin below her ear. Her head fell back on a moan. “I think you need more practice…”
In a flash, he flipped her, hovering above her on the bed. Grinding his hard length against her core, he growled, “Challenge accepted, princess.”
31
“How may I help you?” The scribe looked up from his work splayed across the wooden desk in the archives, lit by a floating orb of starlight.
Ava straightened her top. “I’m looking for Jorrar.”
He gestured to the stairs. “Third story, make a right.”
After thanking him, she made her way up the gold-veined marble steps. Railings boasted elaborate celestial designs along the balusters, each level lined with a balcony overlooking the main floor where archivists were immersed in their research.
It was opposite of the library back at her castle. While Mosshaven’s was dark and cozy, this one was bright and almost sterile. Beautiful, but not the same. She missed the warmth of her own library—the mahogany wood walls, the smell of old texts, the flicker of lamps casting shadows among the shelves.
She was anxious to get back. Worried about what the others were facing. And she wasn’t the only one fretting. Jorrar was concerned about Kai marching with the army and Quinn was ready to get back to Thorne. They were all on edge—longing to be reunited with their friends and family.
She strolled along until she found Jorrar in an alcove, seated at a table enclosed by three walls of books.
He looked up at her approach. “Ava.”
She took a seat across from him. “You finished?”
“Yes.” His face was grave.
“I don’t like that look. What is it?”
Jorrar was always calm. But the worry in his eyes had her on edge.
“Just say it,” she whispered.
He took a deep breath. “There is a realm of the gods. And I believe you are capable of sending Andras back.”
“A realm of the gods? That’s—”Crazy, insane, unbelievable. “That’s hard for me to wrap my mind around…”
“There are hundreds of realms. It’s not surprising there is also one where the gods and goddesses reside.”
Jorrar slid the open book toward her. Ava stared at the page, the foreign words and symbols, the drawings of the portal.
“I assume it was in a language different from the rest of the book to keep that secret?”
“Exactly,” Jorrar answered. “That knowledge in the wrong hands could be disastrous.”
Ava hummed in agreement. “What else?”
“There is a potential problem.”
“Okay…”
