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I’m hurrying after Ramanu before I can think of a good reason not to. They stride through the halls with an easy confidence, and I honestly can’t tell if they’re faking it or if they know where they’re going. They did find my room, though. Maybe they’ve been here before.

We go down a set of stairs and through a series of halls that look out into the garden. Again, I’m tempted to stop and stare and soak up the atmosphere that comes from the trees and flowers. Sol’s bedroom has an interior window overlooking the private park—I’m not sure what else to call it, because garden doesn’t feel like it encompasses the feeling—which is the only reason I’ve lasted in the room as long as I have.

It’s been…peaceful. But too much peace has boredom closing in.

Ramanu’s long strides have me half skipping to keep up. I’m about to snap at them to slow down when they stop in front of a door that looks just like every other one we’ve passed up to this point. They give me another of those unsettling grins, and then they throw open the door.

I make it one step through the door and stop short. A library. It stretches up two floors, lined with more books than I can comprehend, the walls curving backward into shadows, giving the impression of a truly massive room.

A dragon hoard.

While I’m staring in awe, Ramanu has tossed their large body into an overstuffed chair, one of half a dozen varied pieces of furniture arranged in a cozy little sitting area off to the side of the door. I wander closer to them, still trying to take in the sheer size of the room.

They tilt back their head and bellow, “I know you’re in here, dragon. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“Goddess damn it, Ramanu. Who let you in here?” Sol steps out from between two stacks and stops short. “Briar.”

“Someone’s been neglecting their pretty little bride.” They reach over and catch the hem of my dress where it brushes just below my knee. I don’t miss the fact that they don’t actually touch my skin, but I can only guess what it must look like from where Sol’s standing.

A dangerous hissing sound fills the room. “Take your hand off her.”

“You’re not touching her. Why shouldn’t I?”

I don’t know why Ramanu is baiting Sol, but I don’t like it. I step back and swat at their hand. “That’s enough.”

They turn that strange horned face in my direction. “You really are perfect for each other. Neither one of you has a sense of humor.” They glance back at Sol. “If she dies from neglect, that’s still harm.”

The dragon huffs out a breath. His crest flares, and the hissing sound deepens. “Get out.”

Ramanu chuckles as they stand. “All this effort, all this risk, and you’re mishandling the situation. I can’t pretend I’m even a little surprised.” They meander toward the door. “I’ll be around at some point to check on her. Maybe you’ll have stopped being a coward by then.”

Then they’re gone, leaving a growing awkward silence in their wake.

The temptation to flee the room is strong, but I remember Sol’s words from when he took me to the spring. If you run, I’ll chase you. That possibility should fill me with fear, and I won’t pretend there’s not a thread of it present. But it’s not the dominant emotion. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’d promised myself that if—when—I escaped my marriage, I would be cautious and careful and do whatever it took to never repeat history.

Now, here I stand, wondering what it would be like for Sol to chase me, to pounce on me, to…

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they intended to bait you, or I wouldn’t have come with them.”

“Ramanu is one of Azazel’s most challenging people.” Sol snorts, and I imagine I can feel the hot air of it despite the distance between us. He hefts the book in his hand and starts moving toward me in a way that’s almost reluctant. “I think that’s why he delights in sending them here any chance he gets.”

“Why did you do it?” This time, I manage not to clap my hands over my mouth after I blurt out the question, but it’s a near thing. “You took a great risk bargaining with him. What if I fall down the stairs and snap my neck?”

His crest flares again, though his voice is even. “Would you like me to move you to the ground floor?”

“What? No. That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” I lift my hands and let them drop to my sides. Why would he confide in me? He doesn’t know me at all. “I just want to understand.”

Sol sinks onto a deep chair and curls his tail around to make room. I stare. I hadn’t realized it was prehensile. There is absolutely no reason for that knowledge to send a surge of heat through my body. What is wrong with me?


Tags: Katee Robert A Deal With a Demon Fantasy