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“Don’t—” I started to say, but he bent and picked them up. The latches on my briefcase had popped open somehow. I dropped to the ground, shoving the contents back into it while Sylvan’s eyes darted across the page in his hand. Shit. I rushed toward him to snatch them, but he was too quick. He held them out of my reach like a bully taunting a child. I refused to stoop to the level of jumping, so I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “Are you here to blackmail me? Is that why you didn’t expose me?”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. He still held the pages above his head. My eyes flicked to them then back to his face, my blood boiling.
“Give those back.”
A line formed between his brows, and his gaze wandered over my shoulder. “You’re not leaving,” he said. “You’re going farther into this building. Briefcase. Notebook …” He pointed at my alchemy belt. “Whatever the hells that contraption is.” He dragged his gaze over me, sending a subtle shiver through my body. “Are you a student here?”
My nails dug into my palms as heat seared my skin.
“No,” he said, answering his own question. “You work here. Research, I’m guessing from these pages.” Another calculated narrowing of his eyes as they dipped to my belt once more. “Alchemy research.”
My hands moved on their own, grabbing Sylvan by the collar and driving him back against the wall at vampiric speed. He coughed, and his arms fell to his side, but there was a cool neutrality in the way he stared down at me. “Strong,” he choked out, before pulling in a breath.
I should’ve sensed the change in his body language, but the next thing I knew, it was my back hitting the wall. His hands were unyielding against my shoulders, immobilizing me. But he kept distance between our bodies.
Wide-eyed, I stared up at him before my attention slipped to the pages now at our feet. My notes—my formulas—visible.
His nostrils flared, eyes damn-near glowing. His lips curled as a low growl emitted from his throat. It should have scared me, but it lit a flame under my awareness like a beaker set over a burner, something obscure bubbling and rising to the surface. The sensation was both familiar and foreign. I lost my breath as that musky sweetness floated in the air again, and the scent of his blood—gods, his blood—drew my attention with a forceful tug in my chest.
Sylvan blinked then released me. “Fuck,” he mumbled, while my brain buzzed as though embedded with electrodes. What the hells was happening? He snatched my notes from the floor and shoved them into my hands before taking several steps back to lean against the opposite wall.
My thoughts lagged. The wires crossed. I remained motionless, drawing in a breath while my mind felt oddly cleaved in two, a metaphoric door wide open in my mind, my wolf waiting for permission to be released. Another forceful blink, and I dragged my thoughts to my surroundings. The checkered linoleum floors, marbleized walls, candlelight flickering in the sconces. Sylvan’s heart was pounding with equal fervor to mine, exuding anger, confusion, and smoky sweet arousal.
I didn’t spend time among lycans, so perhaps I mixed up emotional cues. Or maybe my senses were starting to dampen as the full moon started to wane. Maybe I was mistaken.
“Why are you researching Lobofebris?” he asked after a shuddering breath.
The door in my mind slammed, and annoyance rushed in. “Because it is my job to do so,” I lied. With a roll of my shoulders, I reclaimed my posture. I wasn’t sure what just occurred, but I blamed the disease this idiot beta was harassing me about.
I walked over to pick up my notebooks, shoving the wrinkled pages into them. They stuck out at odd angles, but I would rearrange them later in privacy.
“It is your job as a vampire to research a lycan disease? It doesn’t affect your type aside from … what? A few flu-like symptoms?”
“Oh, because you know so much about vampires?”
He sneered. “I know you’re an entitled group of blood-sucking murderers who think everyone is below them.”
“And you lycans are closeminded, archaic beasts.”
“Says the woman who depends on blood for survival and lives on a literal hill in isolation.”
I frowned at him. “How do you know where I live?”
He let out something that was a poor excuse for a laugh. “Everyone knows where the Nygaards live.”
“Not when they’re out of bounds, they don’t.” I put my fists on my hips. “Why didn’t you expose me at the meeting?”
“Why are you researching Lobofebris?”
“Why the fuck do you care to know?”
He tugged on his short, brown curls and huffed out a breath. “Because it has destroyed my people and left us with a reputation we’ll have to battle the rest of our lives. Something you don’t have to be concerned with. And yet here you are with, if I’m not mistaken, alchemical formulas and notes on transmission and incubation.” His eyes went wide, the warm amber brightening, though not glowing as they’d been before. Hope.
“Wait a minute. Are you creating a cure? Have you found a cure?”
I grabbed my briefcase and turned to walk away, my panicked breathing making my blood boil even more. I was too close to slipping into my wolf’s mind, despite the embedded gem. I needed to calm down. I needed to be away.
“Fine!” Sylvan shouted after me. “Don’t answer my questions but remember I have information that would be very valuable. And I’m sure the Ministry would love to hear all about it.”
