Page 74 of Eat. Prey. Love.
Turning in my chair, I look up, grinning at him. He leans forward, his rough lips pressing against mine briefly. Dolly comes over, taking her kiss next. She gets a softer, more careful kiss than me, but that’s not surprising. He is fine with being rough in thebedroom when she consents, but he turns into the romantic poet when we’re not behind closed doors.
“Always the bearer of lyrical declarations,” I say, my voice rumbling with appreciation.
“Someone has to be. You’re about as poetic as a bathroom limerick,” Rennie retorts. His humor is a shield—one he wields as deftly as any warrior with a sword. “And our feline friends, except for Chester, are no better.
Dolly’s laughter dances in the air, a silver lining to the cloud of tension that lingers over us. “I think Fitz’s limericks are very poetic. Not suitable for mixed company, but definitely full of rhymes and clever wording.”
“Never tell him that,” I groan. “He’s bad enough as it is. You’ve spoiled that tiger so much that even his twin can’t rein him in. We’re just lucky he’s focused on working on your Games training so he doesn’t bounce all over my library like that cartoon tiger.”
“Speaking of which...” Chess interjects. “Dolly, you need to fuel up for your afternoon classes. Let me snag you something that won’t make your ‘coach’ have a fit.”
“Ugh, fine,” she groans melodramatically, but there’s gratitude in her eyes. “Nothing too heavy, though. Dance and Games training are very different athletics, Chessie. I don’t want to barf on someone’s shoes.”
Once Chess heads off on his culinary mission, we all turn our attention back to the ancient scrolls and digital archives scattered across the table. Our focus narrows to the task at hand—unveiling the intertwined history of the Fae exile and those Council families shrouded in deceit. Time slips by, marked only by the rustle of pages and the muted clicks of a keyboard until Chess returns, bearing a tray laden with carefully chosen snacks. Dolly picks at the assortment with a discerning eye, settling on the meats and fruits.
It’s hysterical how much our bunny hates carrots, but I don’t dare mention it, or she’ll stomp away.
“Thanks, Chessie,” she murmurs before taking a bite.
Pushing back from my table, I sigh as I look at my companions. “If my colleague is correct, finding anything unaltered by the Council in this mess will be impossible. Our best bet to figure out what the Fae want lies within the annals of the Asian shifter academy. There may be records untouched by Western tampering—chronicles that speak truth amidst the silence.”
“True. But we have quite a bit of information to go through here still. That’s not counting anything we find once we get into the hidden bunker here,” Rennie murmurs, his gaze tracing the lines that span years and empires. “While I’d love to just wing it across the continent to look on my own, I doubt they'll appreciate an unknown gargoyle dropping in unannounced.”
“None of us have contacts there,” Chess adds, a note of frustration coloring his usually calm demeanor. “We can’t risk reaching out blindly, not with stakes this high.”
“No, we cannot trust people who are not long-time allies, I agree.” I scrutinize the ancient timeline spread out before me, scales glittering faintly under the library’s soft luminescence. My fingers trace over dates and events, a pattern emerging that sends a ripple of unease through my being. “Wait… look at this. These aren’t just random occurrences.”
Dolly comes closer, peering over my shoulder as I note the specific events in Asia on each of the three timelines, then point at the ones Rennie and Chess have put on the boards. She frowns, tilting her head. “I don’t get it.”
“The events are deliberate—spaced out across centuries. It’s as if... as if magic users have been testing the waters, probing for the right moment to reemerge.”
That stops all three of us in our tracks and we look at one another for a moment.
“You think they’ve been planning a return this whole time? Without anyone catching on?”
“Centuries of preparation,” I reply, my voice grave. “It’s not simply about returning—it’s about choosing the perfect time—a convergence of circumstances that could be exploited.”
Chess furrows his brow, his tail twitching in thought. “That means every historical event we’ve studied might contain a clue about their motives. If we can decipher their pattern...”
“Then we might anticipate their next move,” Rennie interjects. “What we don’t know is how Dolly fits into all this.”
“Yes,” I agree, feeling the weight of history pressing upon us. “The plot we’re uncovering spans far beyond our immediate troubles. It’s a tapestry woven throughout time, encompassing more than just the Fae exile or the Council’s machinations.”
“That suggests,” Dolly says, her fists clenching in a mix of anger and anticipation, “that there are pred families, outside of the Council’s influence, who may hold pieces of this puzzle.”
“Exactly,” I nod, meeting her gaze. “We must extend our search, seek alliances with those uninvolved with the Council—especially within the mythical shifter community.”
“Uncovering allies among them will be crucial,” Chess says softly. “Their histories might be untainted by the Council’s censorship.”
The weight of the cheetah’s words settle over me like a shroud. “We’ll need to converse with the gargoyles at some point.” I glance around the room, my eyes landing on my mate, waiting for him to weigh in.
“We may have to seek out the dragons, as well,” he replies with an arched brow.
I shift uncomfortably, looking at the pattern in the wood on the table. The thought of extending our inquiries to the families that exiled us makes my dragon angry. Neither of our previous families are known for their cooperation. And they sure as fuck haven’t tried to contact either of us since we were released from our groups—except to facilitate our assignment to Apex.
At least, I think our families were involved. I can’t imagine who else would have paved the way for it.
Dolly stops mid-reach for a parchment, her hand hovering in the air. “You mean we’re actually going to meet?—”