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Fayewoke,rememberingwhereshe was the moment her gaze lifted to three arched windows. Hell’s haunting sky gently lit the room through sheer white panel curtains.
Sparrow sprawled gracelessly next to her, snoring with her arms over her head. Her mess of golden curls strewn over the pillows and around her arms. Faye got out of bed and pulled a robe over her nightgown. Rubbing her eyes, she went to the bathroom suite and paused. There were no toiletries in this room.
Great housekeeping fang face.
Faye quietly walked back into the room. She emptied her backpack’s contents on the narrow table beneath the windows and started off to her old room. And if he took all the toiletries from her bath, she would break into his room and steal his.
Faye stepped into the hall making her way back to Rune’s side of the— She didn’t know what to call it. House seemed inadequate. It was a ridiculous amount of space for one person.
She searched the walls as she went, studying her surroundings. Searching for insight into her host. What she gleaned was depressing. The halls, while spelled to be comfortable, were detached and cold. Like his room there was no art, no personal effects. Nothing to reflect his interests or personality. Nothing that made this massive structure a home.
Faye went through the ballroom. The large open space empty and unused. Faye couldn’t imagine living in this sprawling shell of a home. With nothing but silence for company.
She reached the great room without incident. Faye peeked into the corridor leading to her room, hoping Rune would be elsewhere. The passageway was clear, and Faye hurried down the hall.
Slipping past his study, Faye made the mistake of looking in. The Shadow Prince sat behind his desk, Hell’s ever-twilight sky serving as his backdrop through the ornate window spanning the wall behind him. Faye didn’t slow her steps, hoping he was too busy reading his papers to notice her.
“Minx,” his voice called into the hall.
Faye froze her steps and cursed under her breath. She turned back to stand in the doorway. “Yes fangs?” She grinned with feigned politeness. Rune arched his brow at her. Faye dropped her grin with an exaggerated look of surprise. “Oh, were we not doing nicknames?” He exhaled at her, and Faye pouted at him.
“We should arrange a schedule.”
Faye entered Rune’s study, mentally notating the room. Floor to ceiling bookshelves took up the entire left wall. Leather bound books of various sizes filled every shelf. Tables and chairs defined small areas to sit and read. She was surprised to see a bar cart stacked with glasses and decanters filled with liquids of varying hues.
Sparrow would make quick work of that.Faye glanced to her right and her back went rigid. The last time she was here she’d been too focused on the High Queen to notice the black marble fireplace dominating the wall and before it a settee. She’d curled against him there, reading during their dreams. Had straddled him during her last dream. Her lips trailing down his neck.
With more effort than Faye cared to admit, she dragged her gaze away feigning boredom. Rune’s impassive gaze shifted from her to the settee and back. His expression revealing nothing. No hint of shadows. Nothing lingered in his gaze to tell her he remembered the dreams.
If he wanted to pretend he was unaffected by their dreams, she could too.
She took the chair across his desk, adjusting her robe tighter around herself.
“I’ll give you one hour if you admit you are not superior to an Anarian.”
“Like it or not, you are a dark-blood.”
“I’m an Anarian.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “What good would a lie do between us? Four hours and you may split them into two, two-hour sessions.”
“I’ll agree toatwo-hour session.”
“Done.” He glanced back down at his papers. “Noon to two daily.” Faye rose from her chair and turned to leave. “You should also learn court etiquette,” he said to her back.
Faye dug her nails into her palm and turned to lean against her chair, not bothering to suppress the roiling fury eating at her. He flipped through pages covered in elegant sweeping script, not even looking at her. With all the venom she could muster she said, “I have no interest in being like you.”
He looked up at her then. “You were never meant for Anaria.” His voice held a hint of sorrow, though the emotion didn’t lend to his features.
The only thing she detested more than the dark-bloods who looked down on her were the ones who pitied her. “You’ll just have to endure my ignorance.” Faye lifted her chin and turned on her heel.
“Your ignorance left the door ajar between our rooms.”
Was he serious? Faye’s brow knit together as she turned. “Was it too much of a bother to close it yourself?”
Rune canted his head at her. “It serves as an invitation to your bed.”
His words caught her off guard, dousing her anger. Faye paled, an apology forming on her lips. Before Faye could utter the words, the corner of that bastard’s mouth lifted. He lifted his wine glass, swirling the red liquid as he studied it. He glanced back at her, pinning her with his gaze. “An offer I will not be taking.”
