Page 9 of As Above, So Below

I scoff a laugh, unbothered by his tone. “Are you finished here?”

“Ves,” he heaves a sigh, “I’m sorry. I’m not Ylara. I’m not going to sit here and watch you wither away because you can’t accept who you are,whatyou are.”

Our youngest half-sibling has nothing to do with anything between us and I’m not sure why Vaelyn would bring her up. A moment passes as I stare at my brother before I realize it’s jealousy.

My lips curl into a wicked grin. “Jealousy becomes you, Vaelyn.”

“It is not jealousy,” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “Something is changing in the hells, Ves, can you not sense it? I can. Netharis’ behavior has been more secretive than usual.”

“What?” My eyes narrow.

I can’t say I’ve sensed or noticed anything. At the same time, I can’t say I cared enough to pay attention.

He stands from his seat. “If you were smart, you’d align yourself with Kassil for your own benefit.”

Immediately my anger returns. “Say his name again in my presence, Vaelyn,” I snarl the warning. “Kassil canrot.”

His face sets into a scowl. “Your dream fae isn’t—”

My anger flares. Before he can finish his sentence, I launch the book in my hands across the table. Aimed at his head. It flies swift and true, but Vaelyn shields himself with an arm, deflecting the makeshift projectile. It lands on the floor with a loudslap.

Jaw agape with shock, Vaelyn stares at me as if I’d assaulted him with a thrown dagger.

“I tried.” The words are pure ice. “When you’re ready to discuss things in a civilized manner, find me.”

In a billowing swirl of shadow, Vaelyn vanishes.

Civilized? Rich coming from a demon.

No, he’s simply mad I refuse to be used as a pawn in whatever power struggle Netharis has influenced this week. Centuries ago I would have listened to him, I would have gone with him to plot and plan and scheme with the Lord of Wrath. But Vaelyn’s no better than any of the Layer Lords, or Netharis, always seeking to improve his status within the hells—despite being the hells’ chosen one.

Learning everyone I ever trusted only sought to serve themselves was an eye opening period. One I refuse to go through again. I’ll never fully trust any demon, not even little Ylara.

My eyes swing toFated Celestials.

Books, though.

I can trust books.

Books will not beat me, lock me in obsidian, or use compulsion magic to force me to listen. Snatching it from the stack, ignoring the unsettling sensation causing my skin to crawl, my favorite seat by the fireplace across the library calls my name. Shadows rush up around me, and vanish, leaving me deposited in the seat.

With a snap of my fingers, a fire roars to life a few feet away behind the intricate metal screen. The gentle popping and cracking coaxing my anger to subside. Taking a deep breath, I set the book on my lap and turn to the first page.

Blank.

What?

I turn another page.

Blank.

Another and another. All blank.

None of this makes sense. Why would a blank book possess a defense curse? I don’t know what I expected to find. At this point, I’ll take anything to distract me from my spiraling thoughts. Best case scenario, it’ll be information on how to escape the hells.

Give me something.Anything.

Dark runes float to the surface of the page, as if they’re being pulled from the depth of the hells themselves and begin to arrange themselves. In a matter of seconds, I sit staring wide-eyed at a table of contents.