Tristan smiles at me with the glinting eyes of a kid who's getting all the presents under the Christmas tree. My heart swells. I'm dying for him to meet the others. If the others ever want to see me again.
CHAPTER 13
CASSANDRA
My heart hurts today. I press a hand to my chest, eyes unfocused as I re-read the same page for the third time. Gods, I miss them. I miss Ren, and I miss Apollo, and I curse myself, but I do miss Donatello. It's been a week since I left the Collector'sMenagerie, as he called it, so it's been some ten days I don't see any of my mates. Maybe that's why I'm aching inside. Maybe that's why it feels like a part of me is missing.
Days passed like a blur, training until I'm exhausted, reading and reading and reading. I'm a reader, and a firm believer in learning the rules so I know how to bend them, but as I look at the pile of books on basic spells, I accept how ridiculous it is. Prince wants me to learn centuries worth of knowledge in days, and the books are not exactly easy to consume. Some are so old the ink is botched, the pages yellow and flimsy. Many words I don't recognize. Some are of foreign languages completely, and Prince gave me a dictionary, expecting me to learn a dead language in two hours. And even when I understand the language, I don't understand much of what's being said.
Alright, at some point in time the Shadow Mages were not only leaders, but judges and protectors. They made decisions and they made sure rules were followed, and they kept humans out of their realm. But that was so long ago it means nothing to me. It's not like I'll waltz into the Cursed Realm and claim some sort of long-lost crown.
I'm no one's queen, and I'm certainly no royalty. The Shadow Mages were never sacred, but they took the responsibility upon themselves to keep the realm working and safe for everyone. Apparently, not everyone enjoyed that. There were wars — which the Mages won with the help of the Twilight Fae — and then came the hunts.
This whole thing gives me such a headache.
Looking over my shoulder, I spot Tristan and Oreo playing. I found this perfect spot at the library, a huge table Tristan moved until we could prop it against a short bookshelf, so now I can sit with the books and prop my feet somewhere. It's also next to the doors that give into a small yard, cut off from the property. Oreo's such a good boy he's learned to go only in the grass. Tristan races him from one side to the other, feigning catching him until the dog barks and jumps in excitement.
A smile stretches my lips. Even with all the work I've been doing, to watch Oreo getting healthier makes it all worth it. He was locked in a cage, with no hopes for his future, and now he looks so happy. He puts up some weight, even when he hasn't eaten the food we give him. Maybe he eats some rats or pigeons when we're not looking.
Tristan looks up and meets my eyes. He straightens his spine, then jogs in my direction. "Did you find something?"
I fill my lungs, then sigh as dramatically as possible. "No. The fae keep their history under seven locks. I think all books about his family are in Prince's office." I curl my nose. "What's that name, by the way? Do you think he's really a prince?"
"He did mention royal families, no?" Tristan props his hip against the table. "I think you're working too hard. With learning the spells, and how wards work, and looking for more on gargoyles..." He shakes his head. "I don't think you've had enough rest."
"Oh, about gargoyles." I lean over and pull a book closer, flipping to a marked page. Personally, I would never dog-ear my books, but this is Prince's book and I feel like a tiny revenge is in order. Petty. Very, very petty. It makes me happy. "This book is about artificial creatures. If gargoyles were artificial, they would be here, right? Guess what. No gargoyles."
Tristan arches an eyebrow, but he doesn't look very convinced. "No gargoyles? Maybe the author of the book didn't know about that?"
"I read some of the entries, Tristan. Honestly, artificial creatures exist, but they're very different from you. There are these..." I search for the name for a second. "Golem. They're animated rock. A mage has to animate them. But they don't have will, they just do what the mage tells them to do. They're like, single-minded creatures. They don't have likes and dislikes. They don't have dreams and goals." I reach out for his hand. "They're not kind-hearted like you are. You have a soul, Tristan."
He grips my fingers back, but I fear I haven't quite reached him. "Thanks, Cass." He opens a soft smile. "You didn't need to research this. I would prefer you were resting." Tristan leans closer, pecking a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "We could go to bed." His cheeks turn bright pink. "Innocently, of course. Just so you could rest."
A grin slashes across my face. This man. How can he be so perfect?"Don't take it as an insult, Tristan, but you're adorable."
He laughs under his breath. "Why would that be an insult?"
I shrug. "Some men don't want to be adorable but fierce, masculine. I bet Apollo wouldn't like me calling him adorable." My mood immediately sours. I've told Tristan I had a group before being kidnapped, and how Apollo and Ren were by my side when I was taken, but he doesn't know much more. And I know we won't go long without me sharing this.
Tristan's face grows redder. He looks over his shoulder, and I can't help but follow the direction of his gaze. Why is he blushing so hard? Did he hear something I didn't? Is something doing some nasty shit in the library?
"I have a suggestion," he stars, the redness of his face going down his neck. "Not sure if you'll enjoy it."
My spine steels. "I will." Oh, shit, is he going to suggest something naughty? I want that. "What is it?"
He kneels next to my chair, and the man's so tall he's still eye-level with me. Tristan's lips brush my ear. "Why don't you tell me about the men you left behind while I kiss you?"
I cock my head. "How am I going to talk while you're kissing me?"
Now he's the color of beets. "While I kiss you between your legs."
Oh, shit. My panties go one-hundred percent slick in no time. "Let's do that," I reply, quickly reaching for my pants and tugging them down my legs. Tristan gets under the desk, the sight of him protected by the bookshelf. Lust coils instantly inside me. Holy shit, I can't believe this.
Tristan positions himself between my knees, parting my legs wide so he can fit. His beard scratches the inside my thigh and I jump on the chair, scooting closer to him a moment later. I shoot a glance up at the library, but it's empty. It's always empty. No one ever comes here, and Prince never looks for me after his classes. We're safe, I tell myself, but a part of me wouldn't find it so bad being found out.
Tristan's blue eyes glitter from under the desk. "Why don't you start with Apollo?" And he kisses the inside of my leg, up my thigh, beard scratching the way I thought it would.
Oh, gods, I'm going to come so easily.