He watched me, stroking my cheek gently. “This is the way your mind works, and yet you were worried you killed me? You are strong, stubborn, and brave on the outside, but on the inside, your heart is made of feathers.”
I frowned. “Your mother called me blackhearted. I’m apparently spellbound. So, what if, when I break that bind, I find out I’m some horrible person who kills those who care about me? Remember in Montréal? One of my memories was of wanting to kill some witches, too. The me I am right now might not be the real me. Doesn’t that worry you, Theseus?”
“No.”
“I knew you would say that.” I sighed.
He really seemed to be okay with whatever. “I understand your concerns and fears, Druella. But you must understand me.”
“What don’t I understand?”
“That no matter what you are, kind or cruel, witch or vampire, murderous or not, I shall be at your side, for you are mine.”
“That is insanity, Theseus. You should care.”
“Sometimes, a little insanity is good for the soul,” he whispered, his hand dropping from my face and his eyes slowly drifting closed.
It took but a second before he was utterly still. On top of him, I watched as he slept, reaching up and lightly touching his dark eyebrows, tracing down his nose, and down farther until I was tracing his lips. Gently, I tapped them over and over before giving in and kissing them softly, and in doing so, my heart trembled to the point where I had to stop.
I liked him.
A lot.
Gone were my previous ideas for getting to know him and using him to find out about history and art. Even though we hadn’t completed the mating ritual, we were mates in a way, and his family welcomed me. He protected and cared about me above all else. I did not want to disappoint that type of dedication, that type of love. I wanted to be worthy of it. And I could not be worthy of it if I hurt him. So I had to figure out why I had hurt him before to make sure I never made that mistake again. Rising from the bed slowly, I felt that feeling inside me again, like something was loosening, like the binds holding me had more space now.
Taking the silk sheets, I covered Theseus before walking out the door. In the decorated hall of his art, I gazed in wonder at the paintings covering from the top of the ceiling to the base of the wall. He had done all of this. Walking down the hall, I couldn’t help but remember how I was weeks ago. If anyone had mentioned anything of soulmates, I would have blown them off. Such things seemed to be only in books and movies. Then I met Theseus, and it was hard not to believe. After all, what were the odds a lover of art, literature, and history was destined to be a man who had lived through a millennium of all of it? Not just that, but, somehow, we would find each other as we did under the moonlight in the woods. And in doing so, we would find ourselves chest-deep in a mystery between kisses.
“Such craziness only happens with soulmates,” I said, unable to hide my smile as I entered the library again.
However, Arsiein and Atarah weren’t there. I couldn’t hear, feel, or smell them. It was empty. So I turned around and stepped back into the hallway, but I walked right back into the library instead of the hallway.
“What in the hell?” I muttered, looking around. Again, I went into the hall, and again, I entered right back into the library.
“Please let this be a dream and not something weird,” I begged, only to have my book fly from the bookshelf toward my head.
I ducked out of the way, but the book fell right at my feet. It wasn’t shapeshifted; it was back to the black and white composition notebook with my name on it.
I groaned. “Now you show up? Can’t I just get a day! O
ne day without stupid magic I can’t control!”
At my temper, the library shook, and my eyes widened as I quickly held my hands up. “Stop! Please stop. I’m sorry!”
I didn’t want Hinrik pissed that I had messed up something. Luckily, the shaking stopped. However, the notebook flipped open and began to glow.
Dammit.
Could there be any more apparent sign that this was going to lead to trouble?
* * *
When I lifted the notebook, it wasn’t on the page with my name scribbled in poor childhood handwriting. Instead, the words were written in an elegant ancient script. And written above was, “These are the origins,” the opening similar to the Bible.
“Huh?” I frowned, reading over it.
1 And so claimed the humans that in the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. 2 And the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. 3And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4And God saw the light was good, and God divided the light from the darkness. 5 But their God did so with the permission of the darkness. 6 For the beginning was not the beginning as the humans told.
Along with the words were images like a movie at the end of the pages, displaying what I was reading before the page flipped once more.