Page 44 of Shattered Jewel
I catch her by the arm to steer her into my side and away from any more potential mishaps, now that I’m being a good boy.
It’s just my excuse to touch her, really. The feel of her skin against mine sparks my nerves in such a pleasant way. I haven’t felt a zing like this since Tea?—
No. Nope. Not going there.
I press closer to Elara, my arm snaking around her waist. Her warmth seeps through my motorcycle jacket, chasing away the subterranean chill. I don’t question the ease in which she leans into me, too. Last night was surprising, eye-opening, and one I will never forget as long as I breathe.
The shape of her body on Cav, the way she slid onto his dick and fucked him back to sanity—by god, I can’t wait to go insane.
But even without fucking her, I felt Elara, like she was a part of us now, giving herself fully not only to Cav but to us. I was the one who stared into her eyes while she shattered. I’m the one who got to scrape his teeth across her pulse when she screamed.
She gave herself to me as much as she did Cav. And for that, she’s not his. She’s ours.
The thought triggers an alpha need. I want to claim her right here, scattering dust and bringing this grand library into the now, reminding it that it exists through Elara’s cries. I’ll mark every inch of her skin, starting with that full lower lip of hers, and make her beg and crawl for my cock.
Fuck, that image alone rouses an urgent hunger.
I clear my throat, fingers spasming before I force my grip to loosen on her waist.
Kaspian’s footsteps echo off the towering shelves as he weaves between them, scanning the spines with a critical eye.
Axe hangs behind, his gaze still fixed on his phone. His thumb taps the screen, checking for a signal.
“Anything interesting?” I call out to Kaspian, my voice reverberating in the cavernous space.
We reach the center of the room, where a massive oak table dominates. Its surface is strewn with yellowed maps and crumbling scrolls. I lean in to examine one of them.
“This is about where I found Maverick’s flash drive,” Kaspian says, pointing at a piece of yellowed parchment. “First, I found his name on that list right there. Past initiates dating back to the Cimmerian Court’s founding.”
I whistle and tuck my hands back in my pockets. “Not so forgotten, then.”
Kaspian makes a low noise of agreement. “Someone is using this room. Whether it’s for good or evil is up to us to decide. I haven’t had a chance to return since first discovering the place, so now’s as good a time as any to search for anything pointing at who that someone is, or hell, even finding the other half of the Heart. Maverick could’ve stashed it here, too.”
Elara’s jaw tightens at the mention of her brother’s name. Not that it was said, but the way in which Kaspian voiced it.
Emotionless. Cold. Almost bone-chillingly bored.
I catch her eye and give her a sympathetic wince. Welcome to the club. Kaspian would treat a fluffy kitten the same way.
I turn back to Kaspian. “You said someone.”
Kasp arches a brow at me. “And?”
“Why not someones? How are you so certain it’s only one person?”
It’s for an eighth of a second, but a muscle in Kaspian’s jaw pops out at the question. Then his face smooths, and he quickly answers, “You’re right. It could be multiple people.”
“Like the three Sovereigns?” Elara asks, oblivious to Kaspian’s almost imperceptible tells.
Kaspian indicates that it’s possible by waving a hand. Elara launches into further questions, focusing on where Kaspian found the flash drive (under a hideous golden raven statue) and what it contained.
While Kaspian deigns to answer, I scrutinize him closer.
That’s two brothers now who I think are holding something back. Because I can bet you that Axe is up to something, and also wager that for whatever reason, Kaspian is keeping his certainty that only one person has breached this room close to his chest.
I can’t remember the last time I was suspicious of one of my brothers. We’ve gone through hell together—through fires so hot that our souls were forged into molten metal. And we didn’t emerge until every last one of us was out.
I search Kaspian’s gaze for any hint of deception, but he remains impassive, a mask of cool indifference.