Page 43 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"Recognize them from where?"
"Some books." She tugged the braid over her shoulder, tugging restlessly.
"Mortal women aren't allowed to read books in the human lands, are they? Especially not ones with fae letters."
Her jaw tightened. "My father had a collection. Hidden ones."
"Your father was a hunter."
"Hunters need to know what they're hunting." Her voice turned sharp. "He had books about your kind. Your customs, your weaknesses, your languages. I read them when he wasn't looking."
I stepped closer. "Those books don't exist in mortal villages."
"They do if you know where to look for them."
She huffed, shoving the book back onto the shelf. I caught her wrist before she could pull away. Her skin was warm, smooth. She stared at my hand, her gaze flicking up to mine.
"You're lying to me."
Her eyes flashed. "Fine. You want the truth?" She yanked her wrist free. "Pelbie and I used to sneak into the Temple of the Moon Mother after the priests left for the night. They had archives beneath the main hall—scrolls and texts they thought no one knew about."
"Temple archives."
"Hundreds of books. Histories, prophecies, language guides. Everything the priests didn't want common folk to read." Her chin lifted defiantly. "We'd spend hours down there by candlelight, reading whatever we could get our hands on."
I studied her face, looking for tells. "So you're a scholar then."
"I'm a reader. There's a difference." She crossed her arms. "Scholars think they understand what they're reading. I just wanted to know what they were hiding from us."
"And what did you find?"
"Enough to know that everything we were taught about the fae was either a lie or only half the truth." Her golden eyes met mine steadily. "Enough to know that you're all more dangerous than the priests claimed, but not for the reasons they said."
I released her wrist, considering. A mortal girl with access to forbidden texts, who'd spent years studying fae lore in secret. It explained some things, but raised others.
"You want to keep reading."
It wasn't a question. I could see the hunger in her eyes as she glanced back at the shelves.
"Maybe."
"Not this library."
Her face fell slightly. "I see. Too dangerous for mortal eyes, I suppose."
I took the book from her hands and set it on the shelf. Her jaw tightened, eyes flicking toward the bed as if it were a trap waiting to spring.
"Rest now," I said, stepping past her. "I’ll be on the couch."
She didn’t move. “And if I don’t believe you?”
I glanced over my shoulder, catching her in the firelight. “Then stay awake and watch me all night.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t argue. I pulled the black velvet throw from the armchair and tossed it onto the long couch near the hearth.
I reached for the clasp at my shoulder. A faint ripple of light shimmered across the black fabric, and in the space of a breath, the threads unraveled into nothing, dissolving into a fine silver mist that vanished before it touched the ground.
She eyed my naked torso, eyebrow raised. There were scars on my left arm, faint and pale, and those were just the ones she could see. I'd grown used to ignoring the scathing looks, the whispers, the way everyone seemed to shrink from me. Theway the younger fae children would run to their parents if I ever approached.
