Page 47 of Queen of the Wicked
“I am friends with Izara,” he replied.
“And you both have never…” Alessia couldn’t even finish the sentence. If he told her they’d slept together, she’d burn her to smithereens tomorrow during their training session.
“I am not her type, but the thought has never crossed my mind if that is what you’re asking. Aside from Izara, no, I cannot say I have ever had a purely platonic relationship with another female.”
“My point exactly.” Alessia stabbed a pancake withher fork. “I am open to being cordial for the sake of the upcoming mission, but that doesn’t include flirting.”
“Is that so?” He leaned across the table, andgod,seeing those onyx eyes against the corinthians swaying in the background was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. “You fail to remember that your thoughts are on full display for me, Alessia, and the thoughts you’ve projected during this breakfast have been the furthest from platonic.”
“You haven’t read my thoughts today. I can feel when you’re there with me mentally, and you haven’t been since I’ve sat down.” A part of her respected him for that. He could live in her head rent free if he wanted, but he hadn’t opted to do so since Kael’s visit.
“I don’t need to read your thoughts when you keep projecting,” he countered.
“That doesn’t mean I want you! You’re just…” She flung a hand around his face as if that would explain it. “Any woman would have those thoughts. They mean nothing.” Alessia narrowed her eyes at the slow smile that crept onto his lips, and she felt downright murderous when that soft, melodic sound echoed through the air again. “Why are youlaughing?”
“Forgive me.” Picking up a napkin, he swiped the buttery grease away from the corners of his mouth. “I have recently come to terms with the fact that keeping our distance from each other is rather impossible.” Then, as if he didn’t mean to admit that, he added, “The night my powers transferred into you made us more connected than I imagined.”
Understatement of the century. Without mentalshields, Erebos had access to her thoughts, and that’s not to mention this incessant need she felt to be near him. This past week, she only saw him during dinner; even then, he spoke to her hardly at all. She assumed the tether between them was due to his powers craving their rightful owner, and she loathed that this breakfast between them had revitalized her.
“You aresofull of yourself, huh? For your information, I don’t want you, Erebos.”
His lips twitched, threatening a smile. “As you wish, Alessia. Friends it is.Indefinitely.”
“Why do I get the sense you’re joking?”
“I’m not. We shall be friends.”
“And weshallwork on getting your language up to modern speed. Permanently.” Releasing a breath, Alessia desperately moved to change the subject. “There’s a library here, right? Where is it exactly?”
He smiled again, and it was so unlikethe brooding man she first met that she didn’t even know if she was speaking to the same person. She wouldn’t push shapeshifting out of the realm of possibilities for Izara. Maybe this was another one of her powers, and she was attempting a joke.
“I can show you after breakfast if you’d like,” he said. “It’s about time I give you a proper tour of the castle myself.”
Chapter 22
Alessia
The library of Hell was much more extensive than Alessia expected.
After spending the afternoon with Erebos as her tour guide, she was even more lost than she had been when she first arrived. The castle was designed in what she could only refer to as an eighteenth century Gothic-style mansion. Turrets, arched stained glass windows, and vaulted ceilings gave the halls an ominous, foreboding sensation that skittered along her skin.
But it also intrigued her. Every hidden passageway and darkened corner reminded her of how many years the castle had been there. The paintings on the walls depicting various battles and warriors Alessia had never heard of were proof of that.
Even with the walls practically bleeding from the death it had witnessed, those employed by Erebos seemed happy. They bowed as he passed. Not out of fear, but rather respect. One of the cooks in the kitchenoffered them a basket of fruit and sandwiches to bring with them to the library, worried that the lord might go hungry in the two hours since he had last eaten.
It perplexed Alessia. It was hard to accomplish for one to be feared and respected, and she wondered what he did to the demons he tortured to transition them into the kind, compassionate people she’d encountered thus far on the tour.
Erebos led her through corridor after corridor until they finally made it to a set of large, painted black doors that towered over even Erebos. Two brass knockers in the shape of gargoyles took up most of each entry, and Erebos motioned for her to open them.
“Why aren’tyougoing first?” she asked.
“These doors are warded, and since you currently possess my powers, you will have to open them. Place your hand on the gargoyle, and it should detect them.”
With a deep breath, Alessia followed the instructions. A slight vibration echoed into her palm, and with a softclick,the door creaked open.
The smell of old books and scripts flooded her nose instantly, reminding her of home. The house she was raised in wasn’t much, but her parents had made sure there was a small library filled with books. As a kid, she’d spend her days in that beaten-up rocking chair by the window, letting the sunlight kiss her face as she read for hours upon hours.
But the library of Hell exceeded every expectation she carried. It had to be twenty stories high with cobblestone floors and black shelves spanning every inch of the walls.
