Page 35 of Nocte

He smiles in that sinister way. Then he demands, “Read it to me.”

“No!”

He reaches for another. Another to mutilate and maul.

I scramble to flip to a page. My fingers smooth over the parchment, as if to soothe it. Poor, poor thing. I’m here now. I’ll never let him hurt it again.

But he’s creeping behind me, his breathing audible and heavy. “Read,” he commands into the nape of my neck.

I look down and do so woodenly in a mindless monotone. There is none of the flare nor excitement like when I read for Day. Because Caspian, he doesn’t care?—

“What is that?” he demands. “What does it mean?”

I stop. Breathe. Re-read the passage for myself and struggle to decipher it. Of all the things he chose, this is a text on fae history. An older text, less valued than the pristine copies on display in the Citadel proper. Just a draft.

And yet for once, the vamryre is interested. His curiosity wasn’t faked. He wants to know about the Fae ruler I just mentioned. Some king in the olden times, long since forgotten.

I should shut this book. Shut him out. Refuse.

But he is insistent. “Read,” he commands.

So I do, haltingly. Brokenly. Hoarsely.

And he listens to every word, rapt, as if gobbling them up the way his kind do blood. Word by word. Drop by drop.

He listens—but not in amused silence like Day does. He takes these words from me and churns them up in his collective hive mind. What he makes of them? I can’t know. I will never know.

But it’s strange. Like speaking into an endless void.

CHAPTER11

Caspian

She makes her magic so easily. She interprets her symbols and precious books at a glance, then spits out the words. Creates worlds. Makes me fucking see the things she intones. Even when she isn’t trying.

Even when she doesn’t want to.

Making her read for me is like forcing a bird to sing. It’s pretty, all the same. An incessant song.

Damn her.

The smell of her is as intoxicating as it is vile, reminiscent of dust and forgotten things. Like fresh air and sunlight. Rain, and heat, and sweetness.

With every breath I breathe in, Cassius rages and raves. Her mere presence infuriates him. My nearness to her. How I struggle on the tightrope he’s made me walk.

Every action I inflict on the fae, he’ll make me inflict onhim. One kiss already. What is one more? I start to reach for her. Then stop. She’s still reading. Still emitting that little voice into the air. Compared to her, Cassius is a whisper now. I can barely hear him. As she drones on and on about some obscure, forgotten thing, the bastard can’t touch me. Can’t exert his presence.

He wants to.

Under this fae’s dark spell, I am once again beyond his reach. That is what makes her so dangerous to him. Not the jealousy. It’s her power to hold sway over me where he can’t. Because I’m hungry. I’m restless. I want her so badly it fucking hurts. My throat aches for her blood. The thought of being buried inside of her makes my cock throb.

Can’t bite. Can’t fuck. Doesn’t matter. As long as I don’t have to hear him again, I’ll torture myself to the point of madness...

Until she falls silent.

“Read,” I snap.

“It’s finished.” A tremor runs through her voice. “I’ve read it all.”