Page 16 of The Rat King
“I doubt—”
“You doubt that?” I asked, this time cuttinghimoff. I blinked at him in mock sweetness. “I’m sure you do. Considering you’ve had seventeen chances to make a witch warm to you, I’m gathering your abilities are somewhat lacking, warlock.”
His face twisted into a scowl that made me want to retreat, but I didn’t. He did not like being confronted at all. Good. I kept going.
“And because of that, your people no longer thought you a suitable king.” He flinched. “People talk, warlock.” Technically, I was bending the truth, but it was effective, and I’d put it together from what I had heard.
The warlock’s eyes flickered, and he stormed around the desk toward me, and I jumped to my feet. His large, calloused hand wrapped around my wrist, and he tugged. My forearm muscles burned as I tried to stop him from pulling the book out of my grip, but I failed.
Book in hand, Nighval turned toward the door. It wasn’t the book—it was preventing him from taking it that motivated me. I latched my fingers into the crook of his elbow, tugging so he was facing me. Intrigue danced in his eyes as he turned toward me. I’d worked at a bar long enough to know that look on a man.
With my other hand, I wrapped it around the leather spine and stared up into Nighval’s dark, amused eyes. “You think you’re tough, witch? That you’re not scared of me any longer?”
“My name is Avery, warlock,” I spat.
Rustling in the hallway caught my attention, but I didn’t disconnect my gaze from Nighval’s. Xavier burst into the room, stopping short. Finally, we both turned to him to see his mouth dropping as he took in me and his brother engaging in some sort of epic stare-down.
I started as the church bell gonged. As the bell cried out a second time, the air around Nighval shimmered. He jerked the book I still gripped, and my gaze found its way back to his. He held my stare as his features changed. I drew in a sharp inhale. I held my breath as I watched whiskers sprout around his scar and the definition of his nose flatten. My other hand was still gripping his arm, and he used it to pull me closer.
Opening his mouth, his teeth lengthened, and I drew in quick panicked breaths as he said, “Witch.” The second I unclenched my hands from the book and his arm, he disappeared. Like gone, with nopoofor anything. I hadn’t seen his hands working like they’d done in the carriage, but they must have been, but I was so focused on his face I hadn’t noticed. The bell gonged its third time, and I was alone with a fully transformed Xavier.
My hand went to my throat, because apparently, I was a pearl clutcher, to add to the list with fainting, and Xavier in rat-man form rushed over to me. He quickly slipped the metal tips onto the points of his claws and grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, trying to free myself from the king’s grip. “I just need a second.” When they transformed before, I hadn’t seen it, but watching Nighval’s masculine face melt into that creature hurt to watch. My heart actually ached so badly I wanted to curl myself into a ball.
“Why was my brother in your room, Avery, and why were you two looking at each other like that?” he asked. Xavier’s barely there rat brows knitted together, and his eyes took on a darker shade than normal. Even his disgusting rat teeth were visible as his lip tried to peel back.
“That book,” I said, a little stunned that his anger was directed toward me. Still, my chest constricted as I took him in. I was only now beginning to understand their plight.
“Book?” Xavier asked, shaking his head.
“Yes, I ran into him in the library, and I guess I took a spell book he’d been looking for, so he charged in here to take it,” I explained.
“That doesn’t explain what I walked into.”
I turned my head away, trying to make sense of whatever Xavier was accusing me of. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He challenged me, and I didn’t like it. What he said—he made me want to put him in his place.”
Xavier searched my face and then his expression, softened like understanding dawned. “Okay, Avery. He scares you, but he is my brother. He can be a little intimidating—actually, I think he gets off on it, but he means you no harm. I promise you are safe with him.”
“But,” I stammered. “How am I supposed to believe that when I can see the tension between the two of you?”
Xavier angled his body like he meant to step forward. I retreated a step, and he stilled, letting his shoulders drop ever so slightly, but I caught it. “We have a long history. It’s not important. What is important is you’re with me now, and we’re getting married. I know you have your doubts, but I promise the feelings will come. You just need to give us time. I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. You will make a stunning bride.” He gave me a weak smile before he grabbed the doorknob. I wished I felt as optimistic as his words conveyed. “Oh, and I would try to avoid spending more time with him than necessary. It never seems to go well for your kind.”
He nodded and left me with the ominous warning hanging in the air.
I slumped into the chair at my desk, trying to make sense of what happened when a folded scrap of paper that hadn’t been there when I’d come back from the library caught my attention. I picked it up, about to stuff it into a drawer assuming it was another one of Xavier’s poems he’d accidentally dropped, when a heavenly male scent drifted up from it.
My heart skipped a beat as I unfolded the paper.
In particularly neat penmanship were the words,The fourth floor of the main residence could use your attention. –N
I brought the paper to my nose and inhaled. Thunderstorms and firewood permeated my senses, and I dropped the paper like it was a hot coal. Across from the bed, the fireplace flickered. For a moment I considered pitching the delightful smelling note into it. No, I’d better keep it in case I forgot which floor the warlock suggested I peruse.
With that I fished my little key out of its hiding spot, unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk and set it inside. As I changed and crawled into bed, my thoughts couldn’t help but drift to the note. The words, obviously. Not the scent.
Chapter 10
