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“No.” His heart thundered, terror making his magic surge harder until he couldn’t contain it. The floor trembled beneath him, shaking the shelves, rattling the plates on his desk nearby, and rustling the paper twine-bound scrolls above.
Joelle swept a startled gaze in his direction, the books in her hand toppling to the carpeted floor in a heavy thud. Her foot slipped, and she grabbed for the shelves, her fingers raking against the wood in a small squeak. She careened backward, her head on a collision course for the table behind her.
With his pulse pounding in his head and his breath trapped in his chest, Alexei rushed forward and caught her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grasping for his shoulders as if she sought to help him break her fall. Cradling her against his chest, his hands pressed against her soft curves and smooth skin, his magic retreating into a steady buzz despite the fact that fear still surged through him.
Happiness or relief had her face glowing, no supernatural powers necessary, until she frowned and shot him a glare. “You came back.”
“It ismyhome.” Why he’d bothered with the pathetic reprimand he didn’t know other than she’d stopped his heart with panic at watching her slip. Given the headphones, she probably hadn’t heard, and he deserved her temper. Hell, he enjoyed the fieriness in her tone. Hiding her emotions, his sister had said. Except Joelle didn’t mask her feelings from him and that knowledge delighted him.
No, his conscience argued. She deserves more. Hell, he’d almost sent her tumbling into a nasty fall just from losing the iron-clad control of his magic because he’d been happy to see her, worried about her, wanting so much more than he could ask from her.
She glanced around the room, her wide eyes sweeping her surroundings as if searching for a threat. If only she knewhewas that threat. But no, she tugged the cat earphones off her head and held him tightly, seemingly unaware that he was the danger. Where had she gotten those silly things? The pink satin of the inner ears stood out from the black glitter of the rest. On anyone else, they might’ve been ridiculous, but on her? They seemed fun and whimsical and completely fitting with her personality, tugging a small smile out of him.
“Earthquake?” She whispered despite the music blaring from her fallen headphones, a peppy pop song with a dance beat and lyrics about parties and summertime. Nothing he’d ever heard in his home before, but something he wouldn’t mind playing again and again because the tune sounded so veryJoelle.
Her soft voice made him respond in the same hushed tone. “Something like that.”
“Do you think there will be aftershocks?”
“Let’s hope not.” His magic seemed to be managed…for now. But then, he hadn’t lost control like that in years. As a teenager, his pride at being a powerful prince had quickly diminished when he’d realized he could incinerate someone through simple touch, turn them to ash with nothing more than a surge of his powers. It made him a vicious enemy and an unintentional menace to his friends and family.
“You going to put me down anytime soon?” She didn’t sound as though she minded either way.
“Give me a minute to reassure myself that you’re okay.” He didn’t like this unsteadiness, this overwhelming need to wrap her in a protective bubble where nothing and no one could hurt her.
“And then you’ll leave me again?” She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t seem so concerned when you took off last time.”
For her own good.Because if he’d stayed, he would’ve claimed her as a mate with no chance of ever escaping him. If he gave in to that obsessive temptation, he would never let her go. Better he give her an excuse than the truth that might scare her away. “I made sure you had a guard, and I called to check on you.”
“You may have asked about me, but you didn’task me.” Her emphasis on the staggering distinction had him fighting a wince.
“I should have.” He’d spent plenty of time thinking about her, dreaming of her. “Will you forgive me if I make you dinner?”
“I have something to eat.” Stubbornness clipped her words and had her setting her jaw. Or he’d rather think it dogged determination than the alternative—that she couldn’t forgive him.
“That sad little sandwich sitting on my desk?” he asked, turning the question into a disapproving declaration worthy of a food critic in a top paper. “Looks like it’s been there a while with soggy bread and wilted lettuce. Let me cook for you.”
“Put me down.” Her voice didn’t invite an argument so he did as she commanded. Stepping toward the table, she said, “I need to make a few notes before I forget my thoughts.”
He picked up the books she had dropped and set them at the edge of the table, taking care not to disturb her stacks of papers or the open volumes that appeared to have been arranged just so. Scanning the documents, he saw familiar handwriting on torn notebook paper. “Where’d you get Alys’s research notes?” The ones that had gone missing when his sister had.
Joelle met his gaze, holding it for a moment before she answered as though silently communicating the importance of what she was about to say. “From the Order’s archives.”
“But that’s impossible. Those appear to be her originals.”
“That’s because theyareher originals. The Order put out the hit on Alys. They were behind her kidnapping.”
“No, the witches…” For so long, he’d held such hatred of them for taking his sister away, for locking her in a prison.
“They played a part in what happened to her. Or at least one witch did. But Noxx, the woman who took me as a baby? She orchestrated it, and after talking with Alys, we believe they wanted what she knew about the origins of supernaturals.” She paused. “Nowdo you have a personal interest in helping me take down the Order?”
ChapterFourteen
Joelle couldn’t guess why Alexei stared blankly at her as if she’d spoken one of the dead languages in her open books. Then again, she hadn’t been able to think since he’d appeared in the library without any warning, right before the earthquake that had sent her toppling.
He had caught her, rescued her…again. How could the man ever stop seeing her as a helpless victim if he only showed up when she found herself in trouble?
But he’d gone from looking at her like a walking disaster to studying her research with wary curiosity to this intense unreadable gaze that seemed to be trying to see inside her head.
