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“When I went for the car, I found Cassandra among the nobles and told her to have the nobles ready for Avianna’s arrival, since she’d just arrived early.” His jaw ticked. “I thought I was following protocol, especially if Avi expected a formal reception.”

“You were following protocol.” We reached the main level of the residence and found Serge waiting for us along with Benedict’s talem, William. I turned to face Benedict at the head of the stairs. “This was not your fault.”

My thoughts spiraled for a moment. If Benedict told Cassandra that Avi was early, then others would have heard. Hell, the news would have been all over the estate before we’d even had the chance to make it to the park. That meant two things. There was in fact, a plot on my sister’s life, and there was a traitor among the nobles.

“You need to make a list of every noble in residence, and who was around you when you broke the news to Cassandra,” I ordered Benedict.

“Consider it done.” He nodded.

Serge hovered, an uncharacteristic look of concern wrinkling his brow.

“What is it Serge?”

“Miss Lyric is quite…beside herself.” He swallowed. “She’s been vocal about the fact that you may cost her the doctorate she’s been working on for years. Very. Vocal.”

“And what would you have me do about it?” Guilt was a familiar emotion—there was never enough time or energy to fulfill my duties—but the pit that formed in my stomach was an all-new degree of hell. But…why? Why was I so concerned over the inconvenience to one human when Avi’s life was at risk? Why had I put my wrist to those plump lips? Why had I stared at her until I’d eventually fallen asleep? Why was the thought of letting her go so very painful?

“Actually,” Serge said with a slow smile. “I have an idea about that.”

“Whoa.” Lyric looked up and up, taking in the vast expanse of my private library. The room was at the corner of the East Wing, vaulted to the second story, and though two of the walls boasted floor-to-ceiling windows to let the moonlight in, the others were filled to the brim with books—both ancient and modern. The wide balcony on the second floor and sliding ladders would give her easy access. “This is…incredible.”

She stared at the room with rapt adoration and more than a little hunger. My dick swelled as a hunger of my own took hold.

Touch her. Taste her.

Shut it, I warned my instincts.

Benedict, Serge, and I stood in the middle of the room, between the plush, leather couches that served as the library’s primary seating arrangement. At least I had an audience to help keep the roaring need in my blood in check.

“Sorry,” she said, turning in a slow circle, studying the space. “I’m just having a Beauty and the Beast moment over here.” Her wide, emerald gaze flew to mine. “Not that you’re giving me a library or anything, but you are holding me prisoner.”

And I was a beast.

She folded her arms across her chest and eyed the distance to the window like she was contemplating escape. I couldn’t blame her. I also couldn’t let her.

“Serge thought you might be able to continue your work here.” I watched her with a predator’s eye, noting the pulse pounding at her neck, the flush of pink in her cheeks, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon blending with my own.

“Thank you, and it’s so very sweet of you, but I have to go home.” She shot a smile at Serge, and I narrowed my eyes at my talem, a soft, nearly inaudible growl slipping free.

Serge noted it, paling slightly and bowed deeply toward Lyric. “It was only a suggestion. I’ll…um…be somewhere else.”

She blinked in confusion at Serge’s hasty exit.

Benedict laughed.

“I have texts here you can’t find anywhere else.” Well, that came out as awkward as possible.

“Are you trying to bribe me?” She asked, tilting her head at me.

“Yes,” I answered. “I don’t know how long you’ll need to be here, and your...cooperation would be appreciated. So, if you check that section,” I pointed toward the East corner. “You’ll find more than a few books written about and by secret societies that might help you.”

“By?” She was already walking toward the corner. “Oh my God, these are…” her fingers ghosted over the spines, hovering over, but not touching the books. “How old are these books?”

I’d barely thought about wanting to be near her, and suddenly I was standing right behind her. Damn, the pull between us was stronger than I’d ever felt for a female. “They vary. Long life spans come with a few perks.”

“Apparently.” She pivoted, brushing her hair behind her ears and offering me a smile I would have fought wars to be given. Fuck, I’d give her a library every day if she looked at me like that. Lyric wasn’t striking and angular like the females of my kind, but softer, ethereally beautiful. She was a glimpse of pure sunlight in a world of night.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Onyx Assassins Fantasy