Page 96 of In Violent Waves

His face turned an exquisite shade of crimson, and he ripped the book from her hand and slipped it back on the shelf.

“Pick another,” he grumbled.

But she was intrigued now. As he turned away from her, she slipped it back off the shelf and hid it underneath the one his mother had gifted her.

Turning on her heel, she walked away from where he headed and read the titles on the spines.Savage Love, Secrets of the Wench, Sorcerer’s Mistress.

Only one of those titles had anything to do with love. Wilder tapped his foot behind her, and she grabbedSavage Love.

“Are you finished?”

She waved the book in front of his face but was careful not to let him read the title in case that one was ripped away from her, too. But she hadn’t seen any males roaming the stacks, checking on the books that were selected. And Queen Aine had said she was welcome to read “anything.”

He turned and walked towards the exit, leaving her scurrying behind him. She wasn’t annoyed with him anymore. She had not one, but three books in her hands, and she could not be any happier.

Wilder discarded her at her bedroom door without so much as a goodnight. It bothered her, to be sure. She thought they had been encroaching on a tentative alliance at the very least.

But as the guards held her door open, she crept inside in time to hear him stomping down the hall. She dressed down for comfort and slid between the covers.

Alone in her room, she started the book Aine had gifted her. It was an epic story to be sure, but not what she was looking for at the moment.TheKnight in Shining Armorhad the most promise since Wilder was keen on her not reading it. The candlebeside her bed was perfect for reading without straining her eyes as she opened the book and began.

A small vase of flowers had her inhaling the fresh aroma of the tiny chamomile flowers. With her soft nightclothes, a cup of steaming tea on her bedside table that Daisy had left, and the book in her hands, she was feeling less and less like a prisoner. Propped up against the pillow, she flew through the first chapter.

It seemed like this damsel was a prisoner as well. But the people who captured her were not as kind as her captors had been.

Lyra kept reading, hoping to get to the part about “velvet-wrapped steel,” but when a knight appeared to save the young woman, her eyes grew heavy.

She plucked a flower from the vase and slid it between the pages to mark her place. Lyra took one last sip of her tea and blew out the candle.

It wasn’t long before sleep dragged her down into its depths. The ease of it was like slipping into water.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed the ocean, but she dreamed of it.

He couldn’t even find the words to tell her goodnight as he left her staring at him beside her bedroom door. All he could think about was her body under that dress and the question she had brazenly asked him.

Did she truly not know what it meant, or was she attempting to annoy him once more?

Velvet wrapped steel. He snorted. Such an inappropriate phrase from such a beautiful mouth.

It had been a shock to hear, and pulled him out of the brooding his father had elicited. But now that he was out of her presence, the anger resurfaced. He needed to get thesefrustrations out of his system, and there was only one place to go.

Wilder didn’t even bother changing his attire before strutting out of the castle and to the Venus. A bottle of elixir and a release or two would put his obsession with her to rest and numb him from his father’s cruelty.

The cobblestone streets were abuzz with activity as everyone was preparing for Ostara. They were still some weeks away, but it was a beloved holiday and one of his favorites as well.

As he passed from the quiet, manicured streets of the Upper District and across the wooden bridge that led to the Lower District, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of dissatisfaction. It’s not that it was a stark difference, but it was unfortunate that there was a separation between the noble-born and the non-noble-born.

A child with tattered clothes sat beside the bridge munching a piece of bread, and Wilder placed a gold coin beside him. The child reminded him of Ridge when they were young. Gangly from repetitive growth spurts, his mother found it difficult to keep up with his needs. Even now, Ridge wore shirts and pants that were a size too small because that was what was familiar to him.

The child looked up with bright eyes, and Wilder pressed a finger to his lips.

“I wasn’t here,” he whispered. And the child nodded in return.

Wilder turned the corner, and the Venus appeared ahead. He felt a buzz through his veins as his heart pumped quicker in his chest. His chest swelled, and his breath came easier as he sighed with relief. Finally—he could be rid of the constant thoughts of her.

He uncorked the tonic that prohibited unwanted births, and choked on the honey-textured liquid as he swallowed it down.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” the nymph at the door asked him as she ran a hand up his forearm. She was curvaceous, with long, evergreen hair and a pert nose. On any other night, he would have accepted her offer.