I flip back around and pretend to be absorbed into my book as he approaches. Distantly I hear the catering whispers of the other Terra, stopping and asking him if there’s anything they can do to help him or if he’s searching for something.

Damn it. He is, I want to yell at them. He’s searching for me. Why else would he come here? Had he found out about Kalix and me? We hadn’t crossed that line, but the almost still lingered in the air between us whenever I followed the Darkhavens between their classes. Perhaps Ruen had picked up on it.

My ears prickle with awareness as I listen for Ruen’s responses to the Terra. Unlike their attitude towards me, they sound far kinder and even excited to see him here. I curse silently as he turns them all away, letting them all know that I’m fucking right. He’s merely here to check on his Terra.

“How kind of you, dear,” I hear Sylvis say.

Kind? Ruen? Ha. If only they knew. I fix my eyes on the passage in front of me and read it for what feels like the hundredth time even as my external attention itches to hear what they’re saying.

“How are your hands?” Ruen asks.

Sylvis twitters and the sound of fabric rustling reaches me. I don’t turn around. “I’m doing much better after visiting the Terra infirmary,” she replies.

“Is it something the healers can fix?” My head tilts to the side. How well does Ruen know the Terra of the library? It sounds as if he’s well-versed in talking to them if he’s asking about things outside of books.

“No, unfortunately not.” Sylvis sighs. “It is simply a product of age, dear. My hands are strained from all the writing, but I love it, so I will continue to maintain my position until my body gives out on me.”

A moment of silence passes and I can feel my bones growing more and more tense as I wait for Ruen’s answer. “I’m truly sorry to hear that, Sylvis,” he finally replies, sounding for all the world like he means it.

I press my lips together as irritation floods me. He can offer kindness to Sylvis but not to his own Terra? Asshole.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I actually refocus on the book before me. I turn the page, watching the black letters on the yellowed parchment swim in front of my eyes before I reach up and pinch the bridge of my nose. A dull thud has taken up residence inside my skull.

The feeling is interrupted a moment later as a chair across the table from me scrapes the floor as it’s pulled out. I look up, not at all surprised to find Ruen Darkhaven there. I arch a brow at him as he peers back at me. Then, with careful and obvious intent, I lower my head and stare at the tome before me, not acknowledging his presence further.

Minutes pass. He clears his throat. I flip to the next page, keeping my eyes fixed even if I’m not reading a damn word. I’m not going to be the one to start a conversation. He’s the one who came here, after all. I’m not on his time but Caedmon’s.

A huff sounds from the most stoic and annoying of the Darkhavens and finally, he raps his fist against the table. “Are you going to continue to ignore me or ask why I’m here?” he inquires softly, lowering his voice to a whisper in deference to our location.

I don’t lift my eyes as I respond. “Who said I was ignoring you?” I ask even though I definitely was.

“You saw me come in,” he states. “I’ve been sitting here for minutes and you have yet to ask me why.”

“Do you want me to ask you why you’re here, Master Ruen?” I inquire lightly, closing the book and reaching for my quill. “I was under the impression that we were both content to just ignore each other.” I scribble a few notes of what little I remember from the volume before grabbing another book and opening it up to the first chapter.

In my periphery, I watch him bristle. “I told you not to call me that.”

I want to laugh in his face. “I’m aware,” I say. “However, if you’ll recall—the last time I was accused of disrespecting the Gods and their children, I was whipped to within an inch of my life in front of the entire Academy, and then I spent a week locked in my room to recover.” I don’t mention that had I been anyone else, I likely wouldn’t have survived the punishment at all. I flip a page. “I apologize if it upsets you,” I continue, biting the words out as heavy sarcasm fills them, “but I’d rather not suffer such a thing again. Therefore, from now on, you’ll be Master Ruen and nothing else.”

Silence greets me at that. It goes on for so long that when I glance up, I half expect the seat across from me to be empty. It is. But not for the reason I’d assumed. Ruen is up and out of his chair, crossing around the table as his booted, long legs eat up the distance quickly until he’s standing right next to me.

The dark shadows under his eyes surprise me. I hadn’t noticed them before because I was trying not to look at him too closely, but it’s clear that he hasn’t been sleeping, or if he has, not well. Without a word, Ruen reaches for me. Closing a hand around my upper arm, he pulls me from my chair and a strange buzzing sensation falls over me, like thousands of bubbles falling down my skin. He yanks me behind him until I’m almost stumbling to keep up—or rather I’m forcing myself to stumble just because it seems to irk him more.

Stay mad, Godson, I think snidely.

Once we’ve rounded a corner and he’s stomped several aisles down until we’re a good two dozen stacks away from the reading area where the other Terra and I have been for the last several hours, he releases me. I cross my arms and rub up and down—this far from the reading area and the subsequent fireplace, the library is far colder. I recline against the nearest bookshelf and blow out a long breath. A puff of white air dances in front of my face.

Ruen turns and strides one way, stalking several feet from where I remain only to pivot back and fix me with a dark glare. Tipping my head to the side, I meet his eyes. “Something wrong, Master Ruen?” Then just because I know what he’ll say, I reach for the strings of my tunic neckline and pull them out. “Would you like me on my knees or—” I begin asking as I widen the neckline and the curves of my breasts are uncovered.

“Stop!” In a blink, Ruen is there in front of me, gripping my wrists and halting me from finishing the rest.

I arch a brow. “You don’t wish for me to undress, Master Ruen?”

He bares his teeth at me. “No, I fucking do not.” Of course he doesn’t. He’s not the type, but that doesn’t mean I can’t torture him like this. Gods, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed tormenting a man like this in so long.

Extracting my wrists from his hands with deft movements that take advantage of the weak point where his thumb and other fingers overlap, I take a step back, bumping into the shelves behind me. He eyes me warily. Good, he should be wary. I’m a wolf in sheep’s skin and I’m angry enough to pounce if he pushes me too far.

Repressing a smirk, I slowly lower myself to my knees. “Duly noted,” I reply. “I will simply pleasure you like this.” I touch the ties of his breeches and once again, his hands capture my wrists.