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“Yes, yes,” she said, pushing off the desk and sweeping her index finger in the air as if conducting an orchestra. “The disease belongs to the beasts, and I’m only a bloodsucker, so it has nothing to do with me.”

“But it does have something to do with you, doesn’t it?” I don’t know why I said what I did. The words slipped out. But the look that crossed her face, the blood that drained from it, was enough confirmation. I stepped closer, and she straightened. “This is personal to you somehow.” Her posture was confident and unbothered, but her thundering pulse exposed her. “Admit it.”

A flash of something sparked in her eyes. I didn’t have time to dissect what I’d seen, because her hand was flying at me with impressive speed. I caught her wrist, spinning her so she faced away from me. A sharp jab from her elbow into my stomach forced me to let go. One arm across my midsection, I stepped back, fighting the nausea as she stomped on the top of my foot so hard I had to bite back a yowl.

“Gods-fucking-dammit!” I gritted out, limping away with my arm still around my stomach.

She grabbed a sharp instrument from the table, the tip glinting in the enchanted lights above. She pointed the instrument at me, and I didn’t know if should laugh or truly be afraid. “You’re threatening me with a letter opener …”

“Don’t test me, Beta.”

The word stirred something uncomfortable in me. I should’ve taken a moment to breathe when the feelings rose up, but I opened my idiotic mouth instead. “Drop the damn thing,” I barked.

Her body went rigid and her fingers splayed open. The letter opener clanged on the wooden floor. We both stared at it, the air dense with infuriation and surprise. She’d reacted the way other lycans did when I used my alpha bark. But that didn’t make sense. A coincidence, perhaps? Or maybe being bitten by a lycan had given her lycan-like responses? Eyes once again on the woman, I bent to grab the opener then reached past her, my arm brushing against hers.

I slapped the instrument against her desk and asked, “Do you want my bodily fluids or what?”

“What?” Her entire face scrunched.

My own words echoed in my mind, and I inwardly groaned. This close to her, too many scents and emotions to decipher spinning around my head made it impossible for me to think clearly. I put all the space I could between us. “Look, the last thing I want to do is work with an entitled leech, but you have something I want, and I have something you need.”

“The library isn’t mine, you insolent ass.”

“No, but you have access to it.”

“Why do you want access to the library?” She leaned back against the desk again, her fingertips grazing the letter opener. I needed to remain alert, lest she bury it in my jugular and then bury me.

“Believe it or not, Nygaard, I like books, and I’d like to know more of lycan history—what really made us what we are. And I want there to be a cure for Lobofebris. I know it’s hard for you immortals to understand what it’s like to dodge death, but I’d like to do so for as long as possible. And I don’t want to see my loved ones succumb to this shitty disease.”

I fought to keep the sadness out of my voice. “It seems you have a lead on a cure, I have ingredients for said cure, and you have access to a library with books upon books on lycan history. Something we don’t have access to in the middle of nowhere.”

Her back stiffened, and her fingers slid away from the letter opener. Surprise slackened her jaw, but she pressed her lips into a straight line to mask it.

“Surprised to learn we don’t have access to our own records?”

No response.

“Well,” I said, as I reached for the door handle. “If you change your mind, feel free to show up naked again at—” A flash of something shiny in my periphery made me nearly leap out of my skin. There was a thud, and then something clattered to the floor right at my feet. The letter opener. It made a tiny nick in the door, chipping the black paint at my eye level.

I whirled toward Aura. “Are you fucking mad?”

A sharp grin stretched across her face as she tucked loose waves behind her ear. “Yes,” she responded simply. It wasn’t lost on me that the smile never made it to her eyes. “In fact, I’d be afraid if I were you.”

There was silence for a while as her eyes roamed my body. It wasn’t in a way that was objectifying, just pure curiosity. As if I was a specimen in her lab to be studied. She twirled loose strands of hair around her finger, gnawing on her bottom lip again. There was something so different from her usual angry scowl. I found myself looking at her longer than I needed to.

“Venom extraction is not pleasant. Not while you’re awake, at least,” she said at last.

I frowned at her. “I would imagine not. How does one extract lycan venom, anyway?”

“With a needle inserted into the gum.” She looked away from me as if I disgusted her, her heart speeding along with her respirations. I’m almost certain she didn’t realize it, but her hand drifted along her left arm, then down, her fingertips brushing over her skirts. The bite marks.

I wanted to ask her how she’d gotten them, but she was stepping around her desk, then sinking down into her chair. “Tomorrow morning. Fifth bell. Don’t be late.”

“Fifth morning bell?”

She gave me a look that said, do you have a problem with that?

“And I’ll have access to the library?” I asked her.