Page 57 of Threaded

And when his eyes darkened even further, his gaze slowly perusing down the length of her body, when the tip of his tongue darted out and ran slowly along his full lower lip, she almost felt her control slip from her completely.

“Mariah? Are you over here?” Sebastian’s voice pierced her lust-filled haze like an arrow, jolting her back to reality and away from the nightmare she’d almost fallen victim to.

By the Goddess, Mariah. What thefuckwas that?

She ripped her gaze from Andrian’s as she whirled in place just in time to see Sebastian poke his head around the shelves. Spotting her, he stepped into the aisle, his eyes darting warily between her and Andrian. He stopped a few feet away, eyes settling on Mariah as he spoke again. “We found some historical texts that may be helpful. Or, at least, they’ll give us a place to start. Come, follow me.”

Just as Sebastian turned to leave, a voice muttered from over Mariah’s shoulder, “Ifound them.”

Mariah shot the burning retort over her shoulder before she could quiet her tongue, suddenly furious at him for whatever reaction he’d forced out of her no more than a few moments before. “Insecurity is unbecoming, Andrian. Be careful when showing it or else we might all begin to think you’re compensating for something.”

A large, warm, calloused hand suddenly grabbed her upper arm, twisting her around so quickly her vision blurred with the movement. Her mind froze when she found herself chest to chest with Andrian, his breath warm on her cheek, so close that their lips could touch, if only she were to lean forward …

Stop that.

“Don’t tempt me,nio. I’m not compensating for anything, but I don’t think you want me to prove that to you.”

He let her go abruptly, stomping past her after Sebastian. She composed herself just enough, plastering a scowl to her face, to call after him.

“That name you keep calling me. Tell me what it means.”

A glancing smirk over his shoulder. “‘Bitch.’”

A string of curses fell from her mouth like water, his answering chuckle low and cruel.

CHAPTER26

Aheadache pounded against the back of Mariah’s skull like a drum.

“Mariah, stay with me. What do you remember about the First War?”

Sebastian’s question cut through the dull thudding in her head. Mariah groaned and dropped her face into her open palms, her elbows resting on the solid oak table in front of her. “Not nearly enough, it seems.”

Mariah was drained, and it was only partly attributed to her and Andrian’s …heatedexchange amongst the racks of books. Her training with Ryenne that morning had been particularly strenuous, as she’d practiced her control over more than a single thread at a time. She’d already demonstrated she could wield such power in moments when her control left her, but to do it consciously was proving to be an incredibly difficult task. It was toiling, mentally taxing work; those threads of magic, both silver and gold, truly had a mind of their own, slipping through her fingers as if they were coated in a layer of liquid. The harder she tried to wrangle them, the more they resisted her. Ryenne continued to assure her it would get easier, that her control would strengthen with time, but when Mariah had left the training room she’d felt less in control of the raging pit in her soul than she had since the day it awoke in her.

At least Ksee had been absent. Mariah wasn’t sure she could’ve withstood the straining lesson with the bitter priestess breathing down her neck, commenting on her incompetence as if Mariah weren’t alreadypainfullyaware.

She’d thought this afternoon would bring a welcome reprieve from the stress of the morning.

Of course, she’d forgotten Andrian was now involved.

A black, musty, leather-bound book was suddenly shoved into her line of vision, snapping her out of her reflections.

“Okay, well, this one is a great place to start.” Standing behind her, his warmth permeating through the cotton of her pale sweater, Sebastian leaned forward and flipped the book open to a page. Words were scrawled in an ancient script, the title written across the top in the old language of Onita:

D’abord Issil.

The First War.

Sebastian tapped the page before stepping away. “Read, Mariah.”

So she did.

* * *

Mariah read, and while some of what she read was familiar, much of it was new to her.

The pages before her told the story of the Scourge—Flétrir, as he was called in Old Onitan—the demon king of Enfara, the great abyss of their world and home to the worst of the gods’ creations. Long ago, in a fit of jealousy for what his realm lacked, Flétrir had led an army of his demons, ormudae,as the texts called them, out of Enfara and into their world. The wicked darkness they brought with them threatened to overwhelm everything, to wash away the beauty of the lands the Goddess had created while mankind was still in its infancy. That invasion by the Scourge was eventually what led to what those of their world called the First War.

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