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“Something like that.” He lifted a shoulder.

“But every ghost story has some truth to it.”

“How so?” He tilted his head to the side. The motion made him look adorably enticing, and I didn’t like how my heart fluttered at the sight.

“The paranormal element adds fear to mask the real truth,” I answered him. “To keep it away from the wrong hands. For example, let’s just say the Sanctum Sollus did have the secrets. Everyone wants it, right? But if you spin a curse on it, many wouldn’t dare to bother, despite its value,” I finished, the enthusiasm in my tone brimming brightly. My curiosity always got the best of me.

Arkane slid a smile my way but didn’t say anything, and I paused, thinking about it. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense as all the pieces fell into place.

With wide eyes, I leaned closer to him. “But it’s true, isn’t it? The Sanctum Sollus does exist, and that’s what Kenny Stormhold stole from your family.” The family did have the tendency to hide real secrets in plain sight.

For a second, Arkane simply stared before he slowly nodded. “But the painting is simply a painting without a reader.”

“How so?”

“It’s the duty of the family’s eldest to gather all of the Alacteon secrets and embed them into the painting. Only those who inherit the family know of its real existence and know the language to decipher it. Others think it’s simply a supernatural folklore. Every member of the Alacteon keeps some kind of leverage, and ours was the Sanctum Sollus. It’s our family’s most treasured possession, and if it fell into the wrong hands, there would be chaos.” Arkane slowly walked over to me as he continued, “It’s compiled of every dirty secret in this world, deals that were never meant to see the light of day, our ruined history, every knowledge that a common man is never supposed to know. Thirty years ago, Father made a mistake of showing it to Kenny, but thankfully, he didn’t teach him how to read it. Right before he left, Kenny stole it and spent years trying to decipher it, knowing very well that if he did, it would mean the end of our family and our reign with Alacteon.”

“Why can’t you just get it back from him?”

“All my father found was a fake copy in Kenny’s possession,” Arkane said flatly. “My bastard of an uncle had already shoved the original somewhere safe, and no matter how much my father tried to find it, he failed. But it was mainly because he didn’t have the heart to kill his own twin.”

I nodded slowly as everything finally started to make sense, but wait… “You said thirty,” I noted. “But the truce was only formed thirteen years ago. What changed?”

He came to a stop in front of me and leaned forward, grasping my chin between his fingers. He was close, close enough to kiss. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re one smart cookie?” he asked in a low, husky tone. His hot breath fanned over my skin, making my blood sing for him. It took everything in me to stay calm and controlled. No amount of training prepared me for this. Prepared me for him.

“Are you mocking me, Stormhold?” I eyed him hard, despite my knees going weak.

The corner of his lips lifted into a smile. “I wouldn’t dare,” he said, giving me one last look before he let go of my chin. Only then did I feel like I could breathe again.

“So the truce?” I prompted, getting back to important matters. Not ruining my thoughts over how Arkane Stormhold was consuming every part of me.

He sighed. “Well, because Kenny was successful thirteen years ago, partially so. He was able to translate some of the codes and threatened to expose it to the world, so my father formed a truce to contain the situation from escalating,” he said in a dry tone.

Thirteen years ago? The same time I lost my family? That can’t be a coincidence, can it? “But you don’t agree,” I eventually said.

He nodded. “I believe in cutting the snake’s head before giving it a chance to grow and bite us behind our backs.”

“But why is Kenny doing all of this? Isn’t he your father’s twin? And why restart a fight that has been settled for years?”

“You want to know everything, don’t you?” Arkane smirked, twirling a strand of my hair, and my breath threatened to catch at his actions.

“My curiosity does get the best of me,” I muttered. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s a long story,” he said. “Let’s talk over a meal. We do have the midnight oil to burn, and there’s plenty of time.”

I sighed. “Fine, let’s go,” I replied, heading straight to my table, finally leaving his fervent energy behind. I took out a tissue and wrapped it around my coffee mug.

He frowned when I picked up the tissue-covered mug. “What is it that you’re doing?”

“He touched it,” I mumbled. “Let’s get going,” I said, already walking out of the room.

“If it’s the prints that you’re trying to pull, I already have them,” Arkane supplied, matching my steps as we exited the Codex. I was thankful for the empty hallways—customary of his presence—because I didn’t want to deal with Mrs. Dolores right now.

“Not prints,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed by my habit. “I don’t like people touching my things.” I tossed the mug into a communal trash can. We were in the private alley with a brooding Mikhail standing guard next to Arkane’s Maybach.

Arkane flicked a brow. “So you decided to throw it?”

“Yes. Can you pour some water for me?” I asked, waving my hands.