Page 92 of Toward Immortal Ruin

Eden had met Nina’s mate, Zeke, and several of Nina’s fledglings—her brothers and sisters now, for all intents and purposes. All of them had congratulated her on the transition to immortality and promising years of sibling mischief to come.

Drake and Kane continued to bicker with Aidan all night, each of them trying to claim her as their protégé. Flattered but needing a moment alone with Nero, Eden was grateful for the private moment they were able to take to themselves in the relative quiet of their home.

“I have something to show you.”

“You’ve already given me the world, Nero.”

“Then consider this the moon,” he snickered.

Nero gently pressed a hand into her lower back. When he opened a door she’d never noticed before, her new sharp senses picked up the musky vanilla scent of old books floating up the staircase he had revealed.

The fully finished basement contained the obligatory big screen television, a huge sectional that appeared to have enough seating capacity for a small nation, and a popcorn machine tucked away in one corner. To the other side of the stairwell, a small studio and slanted tables held the promise of a second drawing space, though this one didn’t contain any artwork on the walls.

He opened the door off to their right and the scent of paper and leather blasted out from beyond the threshold.

Eden’s breath caught in her throat as he flipped on the lights. Rows upon rows of shelving were set against walls and ran down the length of the gigantic room. Piles of paper, both bound and unbound, were stacked against walls and overflowing in bins.

“Since we turned the basement of the dome into a shelter, all of the archives shifted to my home. I would’ve showed you it sooner, but it’s kind of a mess down here, to be honest.”

After sucking in a breath to clear her sudden lightheadedness, she babbled, “This—this is where you keep all of your immortal history documented?”

He nodded. “Some of these are thousands of years old, written by immortals who’ve long since passed or sought the light. Though every clan has archives, mine are renown for being some of the most complete.”

It was a scholar’s dream. Eden didn’t know where to look first. Her feet started moving without her conscious decision. Bins and totes were filled to the brim with ancient-looking paper, and binders with moth-eaten edges peeked out from every corner.

Scouring the shelves, she saw texts written in a variety of languages, some that she recognized, and some that she didn’t. Frowning, she tried to find the end of the room—and couldn’t.

“How on earth is this room so large? It’s in your basement!”

“Magical Raeth powers, professor,” a grinning Nero responded.

“I feel like Belle, being shown the library.”

“That makes me the beast,” came his laughing reply. “I’m oddly okay with that.”

As she strolled down one of the aisles, her fingers delicately running along the spines as she walked. Beside her, Nero gently adjusted tomes that were uneven on the shelf.

“With the Heat and the recent move, the archives have been mostly abandoned,” he ruefully explained. “I’ve always lovedtaking care of the texts, but it’s hard to get a moment away anymore.”

Taking her hand, he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “If you’re up for it, Eden, we could use an archivist. Someone who knows the value of our history and would take care of our past.”

For Eden, this was heaven. Being able to view scripts and scrolls never before seen by human eyes—well, newly vampire eyes—was an opportunity her inner scholar had never dreamed of. There was no question in her mind.

“Nero—this is beyond what I could’ve ever dreamed,” she whispered. “In what world would I ever say no?”

A strong sense of pride and joy washed through their mating bond, and Nero wrapped her up in his arms. She clutched at him, needing his tangibility as happiness threatened to make her float away. When they retreated, she rested her palms against his cheeks and claimed his mouth.

The kiss, pure and sweet and filled with gratitude, would be something she’d remember to the end of her days.

A thread of excitement wove behind Nero’s eyes. “There’s another reason why I brought you down here. I have something else for you.”

She glared mockingly at him. “Now you’re just making me look bad.”

Almost nervous, he strode away from her to the table set up near the front of the room. “For our mating day, professor.”

Eden slowly unwrapped the gift, carefully taking time to unfold rather than rip. She wanted this moment when he belonged solely to her to last. What she found beneath the wrapping stole her breath.

It was a watercolor painting of her wolf, in perfect shades of rust and toasted marshmallow. Nero had painted a beautiful head study, icily focused on something in the distance. Her eyesblurred as she devoured every line. Instead of the life-like quality of his other works, this one was primal and surreal, capturing the spirit of her beast.

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