Page 21

CHAPTER 21

Korven

What could be so Goddessdamned funny?

It certainly couldn’t be anything the Duke of Fucking Riche was saying. Or…writing, really.

The two of them—holed up in a back hall of the library.

Writing little notes to each other.

I raked my fingers against my scalp again and my hair fell across my face. I couldn’t stand it. I wouldn’t stand it much longer. Their hour was almost up, but since I was the timekeeper, I could decide how long an hour really was.

Her laugh chimed again, and though the duke couldn’t hear it, I didn’t doubt the fucker could see it in her body. The way she shook and adjusted herself. Maybe brought her hand to her mouth in habit.

I had watched their interaction for the first ten minutes or so before I knew I should leave to the end of the hall before the bastard left with a black eye and broken ribs.

Jealousy raked her claws in my skin, and I couldn’t get away. The thing was, I’d never experienced it before Seraphine. I refused to explore if that was a good or bad thing. I rolled my eyes and pulled my hair back again, remembering I wasn't going down this road.

The duke chuckled and I heard the faint scratch of one of their quills.

I needed to get out of there.

My feet started moving, confident she was safe enough for me to walk a few halls down. Maybe I could pick up a few books for us to take back to our room to read after we’d fucked until we couldn’t take any more.

My hands trailed along the bookcases of each open hall I passed, slipping over the smooth carvings of ornate swirls and flourishes. I entered the empty hall of natural history. Two whole halls away from Seraphine and the Prick.

Plants.

Animals.

Bones of things I couldn’t name.

The reference book for this section was as thick as my palm was wide, and when I flipped it open, a cloud of dust spread around me. Coughing, I searched for the books I guessed would interest Seraphine most.

Top shelf. Seven hundreds.

A ladder on rollers shadowed the corner of the hall, probably collecting cobwebs and more dust than the reference tome.

I flew.

My wings, unaccustomed to spreading in such tight quarters, knocked several books to the floor below, and it took a moment to adjust my wingspan, searching for the seven hundreds. The great whoosh of my wings was bound to attract unwanted attention from the scribes, so I grabbed a few hefty volumes and began my descent.

Slightly off-kilter, I flew sideways to the entrance of the hall, exposed to the main floor for a brief moment, locking eyes with one of Prince Urik’s guards.

Though he wore plain clothing, I recognized him instantly. I had a knack for faces and his was gruff and blotched with a nose so crooked, I’d wager it had been broken multiple times.

He fled and hurried out the great front doors. I tucked my books under my arm and rushed across the aisle, shifting into a raven to glide over the balcony railing and back to Ravenfae, just seconds behind him when a scribe stepped into my path.

“Can I help you with those, Sir?”

“Move,” I snapped, stepping around him.

He grabbed the thick books from under my arm, spinning with surprising sprightliness. “You will not be taking these outside of this library without the proper paperwork.”

He was brave, I’d give him that. It wasn’t just anyone who would stop a Ravenfae from taking anything out of anywhere.

“Fine,” I growled, nudging him out of my way as I raced up the few steps, bursting out of the doors.

The waning sun blinded me to the west, and I peered out into the street, searching for the guard I knew belonged to Seraphine’s betrothed.

So, the Prince of Havenshire had sent a spy.

As I shifted and flew toward the sun, searching below for any sign of him, I worried about Seraphine’s body back at the castle. If he touched her…if he did anything to harm a hair on her head…

I landed on the bannister of the belfry at the Altar of the Veiled Ones. Shifting back, I cursed, still scanning the streets with no clue as to where the guard had gone.

No matter. We still had a few days left and I knew the general area where I could find him, beat the shit out of him, and get some answers.

Seraphine was not marrying the Prince of Havenshire.

She wasn’t marrying the asshole Duke of Riche, either.

And she wasn’t marrying me.

That truth sat hard in my chest.

But I wouldn’t dwell. I would live the days we had left. Phinie and I had a date planned in the marketplace, and the duke’s time was up.

I spread my wings, ready to shift back to raven and tell the duke to get the fuck out when I froze in place, immobilized mid leap from the tower.

A voice echoed between the stone walls and off the copper bell, ringing in my head where I did not want to hear.

“Korven,” it drawled. I would say with love, but I didn’t think her capable.

I caught myself as she lifted the spell holding me in place and drifted back into the tower, taking a massive breath, readying myself for the conversation to come.

“Hello, Mother,” I greeted, hands shoved in my pockets, back leaning across the cold stone. “What brings the Ravenfae Goddess to Havenshire?”