We fall silent and Verity shifts uncomfortably on her knees before finally falling back into a sitting position. She reaches for one of her books. “Should we continue the book?” She asks, waving it at me.
I study the cover and groan. “The romance?”
“The romance,” she confirms. “We have to finish it before we start the next one.”
“And how many books are there?” I ask, dreading her answer.
She grins wickedly. “Five.”
“Oh, gods,” I groan. “Fine.”
I lay down beside her as she falls onto her back, the book lifted above her face. My head is beside hers, and my breath ruffles her hair with each exhale. She reads, her melodic voice ringing through the garden. I imagine that every tree and every flower leans closer to hear. The story itself is a poorly written rendering of a classic myth in Alnembra; the tale of the nymph that fell in love with Sadal Melik, the Dark God.
But I don’t read with Verity for the stories. I listen to her read because I love the sound of her voice. I love the way she struggles to pronounce our words and names but never blushes with embarrassment. I love the way her face shows every reaction to the story, whether she knows it or not. I love that she’s chosen to spend time with me.
I close my eyes, letting the soft lilt of her voice lull me to sleep. My body aches from the battle and I’m exhausted from the rage and sorrow I felt when she left. All I want to do is sleep. I hear her shift beside me, rolling, and I open a sleepy eye. Her gaze breaks away from the page for an instant to look at me, but she never stops her narration. When she looks away, I let my eye slip closed again, assured that she’s still beside me.
The words she reads mean nothing to me as I doze, only the sound of her voice. The grass is soft beneath me, the perfect cushion for me to rest on. The garden is filled with the singing of birds and the lapping of the pond beside me. I purr softly as her cool fingers stroke my head rhythmically. The last thing I remember before I fall asleep entirely is her voice.
Chapter 16
Verity
Altair blinks sleepily at me as he wakes. I arch a brow at him, the book still open in my hands. He fell asleep almost an hour ago, snoring softly. Altair stretches like a cat, his claws extending from his paws. Specks of dried blood coat his claws and I drop my gaze back to my books.
“Leaving?” He yawns, watching me gather the books.
I stand, grunting as I pick up the stack of thick books. “Going to help me?”
He grins. “As you can see, I’m powerless to save you from those heavy texts.”
“Of course you are.” I roll my eyes. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“I won’t be at dinner tonight,” Altair says. I turn, surprise flickering in my eyes. He lounges back and dangles one of his massive paws in the pond. “Come to my room after the sun sets.”
“Why?” I ask warily.
Altair turns his hazel eyes to me. “Because I want to see you again.”
My heart does backflips in my chest at his words, warmth rushing to my cheeks. “I’ll think about it.”
I turn away and hurry from the garden back to the library. We both know what my answer will be. I can feel Altair’s eyes on me as I disappear through the hedge gate. A moment later, his shadow streaks over the ground ahead of me as he soars away past the castle turrets. Since I’ve been here, Altair hasn’t missed dinner once. I bite my lip, wondering what he might be doing. He might simply be skipping dinner with me to spite me for leaving. I wouldn’t put it past him, I smile to myself.
Three guards are posted in the library, and one stations himself beside the door when I enter. Altair seems to have been shaken by Maaz’s visit. I drop my books onto a nearby table. The librarian hasn’t taught me the Fae shelving system yet, but she promised me she would. It will be a good way to spend my time, since I’m sequestered to the palace.
I sigh and search through the bookshelves for any texts I haven’t read yet pertaining to magic and curses. I wish I had been clever enough to question the Bloodbane witches about the curse more. I should have. Anxiety twists my stomach as I think about Altair and the curse. He hasn’t pressured me with his timeline, but I know that time is running short. And I haven’t made any progress.
I release a deep breath, glancing out the window as the sun is setting. Whatever Altair is occupied with, it will keep him for a few more hours. I settle into an armchair in the library with books on the Bloodbane history and lose myself in them. At least I try. My thoughts wander to Altair as I my eyes roam the pages.
I know I did the right thing leaving Henry. My brief visit with him proved that to me. I’m not a story for him to boost his celebrity or a trophy for him to wear on his arm. Henry never could understand that, and now I see it clearly. Altair didn’t even put me on display during the ball; my time in the spotlight was brief, and it seemed meaningless to him.
I purse my lips. It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that Altair is using me just as Henry was using me. And like I was using Henry. Is that what relationships are? Two people using each other? I trail my finger across the words of the page, eyes staring blankly. My only relief is that I’m not using Altair. Not yet anyway.
The clock strikes, drawing me from my reverie. My eyes snap towards the window, the darkness is
