Page 31 of Scales and Seduction

“S-sorry,” I stammer, glancing down at her leg. “I wasn’t watching.”

Avalon’s eyes soften, and her leg drops back down to the floor with a long exhale. A few seconds of bitter silence hover between us until she breaks it. “What an understatement,” she mutters under her breath. “Go, he’s still outside, likely pouting.”

She pushes past me in the corridor. Her massive bulbous body fills the space so completely, I have no choice but to press against the wall and wait until she passes. Everything about her terrifies me, and as she leaves, the scent of her perfume is all I’m left with.

I make my way back to the double doors, pausing long enough to catch my breath. My hand hovers on the handle with uncertainty clenching my chest in a vise. Gideon turns to face me as if he knows I’m standing behind the glass watching. Hisgolden eyes stare into mine, and for a heartbeat, it’s as if I’m all he’s ever wanted. His eyes sparkle with awe, making my pulse quicken.

Somehow that look gives me courage, and I finally step forward out of the castle and onto the stone patio.

“Are you alright?” Ruby’s voice calls behind me just before her hand latches onto mine. Seeing her through the glass window panes stirs something primal in me, something that settles all my nerves.

Without thinking, my other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against me. The way her body fits against mine grounds me, helping relieve the growing knot of concern in my gut. I allow my tail to coil loosely around her ankles to hold her even closer. I need her here with me. “I’m much better now that you’re here,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I didn’t mean to leave you so long.”

“I know, you had to handle things with—” Her voice wavers as my tail slides up from her ankle to rest lightly against the thickest part of her thigh. The subtle hitch in her breath drives me wild. “Hey, not here,” she hisses, her cheeks flushing as she tries to shift her body away.

My tail tightens, squeezing her closer, and not because I’m turned on but because just the warmth of her body soothes me. I feel like the storm of my mind clears when I touch her.

“It’s handled for now,” I sigh, pressing my forehead to hers. “But she knows. Avalon somehow sees through the cloaking spell. I knew if anyone would, it’d be her.”

Her head jerks back, her eyes grow wide, and instantly her teeth dig into her lip. “What? She knows I’m human?”

“Yes,” I admit. “She won’t tell anyone, but eventually—well, it’s only a matter of time before the Vale knows. Silas’s magic can’t last forever, especially if…”

Ruby interrupts me, her hand squeezing mine viciously, “If what?”

“If our bond weakens the magic, then Silas would need to be on call constantly,” I say matter-of-factly. Every time we are intimate, the magic would break, then there’s no way to stop it.

Ruby’s anxiety ripples between us, and I can see the way her teeth tug the raw skin on her lip. Her grip on my hand has grown wet with sweat. “Then what do we do?” her voice trembles. “Wait, and there’s something else—something with Silas I learned when you left the study.”

I glance around the garden, searching for eyes or ears that might overhear. There’s always a chance we’re too exposed. “Come with me.” I release my tail’s hold on her, lacing my hand with hers.

I tug her through the double doors. Her feet hardly manage to keep my brisk pace, but I need to be sure no one notices us slipping away. Down the dimly lit corridor, and up the winding staircase, the one thought in my mind is to find a quieter place.

“Where are we going?” she whispers curiously as I lead her through the castle.

Casting a glance her way, I smile, hoping she might feel reassured that I have her and she’s safe with me. “We’re going somewhere where we can talk.”

Once we’re at the door to Atticus’s bedroom, I freeze. Mother forbade anyone from cleaning it or touching it sincehis disappearance. As I push open the door, I gasp as the thick air of old, aged paper and disuse wafts in my face. It’s a perfect snapshot of the day before his disappearance. Dust clings to every surface, and the bed is still a mess of rumpled unmade blankets.

Stacks of old books dominate the room, teetering in stacks near his desk under the large window. It’s steeped in memories of us playing together as children, and of moments where he was bent over his desk, perturbed by whatever document he was deciphering in his youth.

“What is this place?” When Ruby shuts the door behind us, it makes me feel as though we’re being enclosed in his tomb.

I sigh, emotions welling in my chest as I realize I haven’t been here in over a year. “This is Atticus’s room. Loran mentioned there may be a diary that belonged to Kithrall in the castle,” I say solemnly. “I’m not sure why I chose to start here first.”

“Do you think he might have been interested in the curse?” Ruby asks, hesitantly glancing around the room.

“If anyone was interested, it would be him. Atticus loved history and often as a child rebelled against the old ways.” A memory of him at the dinner table being yelled at by my stepfather after asking too many questions floats into my mind. “After his disappearance, we looked for someone, anyone, to blame, but there was nothing to go off of. It was as if he evaporated into thin air.”

My hands hover over a tiny naga statuette on the tall bookcase against the wall. It matches my own, and beside it is a large gargoyle with wings extended wide. He’d kept them all these years. A pang of longing tightens my throat, but I muster a smile. “Let’s search his room. Maybe he has the diary somewhere in his books.”

Once I’m by his desk, I sift through yellow papers and notes scattered across it. Each piece feels like a breadcrumb leading me to what I want to find. His familiar handwriting swirls in beautiful strokes that are a strange cross of elegant script and blocky modern letterings. I pick up a piece of parchment, intent to decipher it, but before I can, Ruby’s gasp draws my attention away.

She’s standing beside the bookshelf clutching a clear decorative vial with a bulb, similar to an old perfume. Her gaze fixes on me, but her eyes have a vacant, glassy stare, as if lost in a vision only she sees.

“Ruby?” I take a step toward her, but she doesn’t react. Instead, her hand drifts down her chest, grazing over her breasts. The moment her hand collides with the bud of her nipple, she gasps, and her eyes roll back as if the feather-light touch itself has her close to orgasm.

The closer I get to her, the more the pungent scent assaults my senses. Pixie pheromones. The scent is closest to a mixture of piss and tree bark, and in large doses, it can act as an aphrodisiac, which is why Avalon enjoys using it. Its properties are no different than naga venom, but at least the bite can be sensual. After a while, the scent fades away and becomes less disgusting, but I’ve never been a fan of it, other than the added thrill it elicits.

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