Page 36 of Dancing with Vipers and Shadows

Early retirement, so we young scholars and chosen professors can focus on our careers in peace and not with his constant harassment.

The shiver that runs through me makes me realize the goosebumps that run across my arms are thanks to the drop in temperature.

Such an impatient fae prince.

“I was observing the student at a closer glance and decided testing her further would do no harm if she was worthy enough to be given a free pass into the university,” D’Angelo summarizes quickly, sensing the frigid temperature drop.

I don’t think his explanation makes things any better, but Prince Daemon hides it flawlessly.

When a fae hides their emotions, the first thing you do is run and don’t look back.

“You dare try to lay a mere finger on Miss Guinevere, and I’ll do the honor of wiping you off the face of this tainted earth,” he announces before the man can attempt to further defend himself.

“Wh-What?” He looks shocked at Prince Daemon’s declaration.

“Did I stutter?” he inquires with sarcasm that has me trembling, not from the cold but from actual fear he’ll destroy anyone in his current radius.

His boiling temperature could easily make the very walls around us begin to melt into molten if he wished for it.

“Don’t touch what I have every intention of claiming,” Prince Daemon gets to the point with eyes that pulse with foreign energy. “She’s not a lab rat for you to dissect. Quite frankly, you’re lucky I don’t ban you from even looking her way.” He leans forward, his eyes meeting D’Angelo’s.

“Then again. I wouldn’t hesitate to do so if you push enough buttons. Proving people wrong before I slice their heads off their bodies is rather empowering, if you ask me. Not sure whether my prey enjoys it as much as I do, but I’d gladly ask you and see if I get an answer from your detached head.”

D’Angelo swallows again, the motion loud in comparison to the pin-drop silence surrounding us.

“That’s all,” Prince Daemon announces. “Now, go back to your cave of potions. It’s unsafe for you to stay out so long with your weakened immunity, thanks to your age.” He makes it sound as though D’Angelo is in his nineties.

The funny part is, I’m sure the fae side of Daemon can live for centuries if he wishes, yet he’s criticizing a fifty-five-year-old man.

My biased, cocky best friend.

“Th-Thank you, Prince Daemon.”

I’m sure it took everything in his chest to say those words of gratitude. I also believe Prince Daemon can grasp whether or not they’re genuine expressions of relief.

Tonight, he may not care.

“Imbecile,” Prince Daemon announces as though he’s not standing and facing the man he’s insulting. “Let us depart, Professor North. We have to pass by the library.”

The library? Why would we go there?

“The library, huh?” I comment without trying to make it sound like a question.

Prince Daemon glances over his shoulder at me, the two of us already walking as we ditch D’Angelo before he can mutter another word.

“The library calms me down with its dark aesthetic,” Prince Daemon reveals, yet I catch the way he smirks.

He’s up to something.

“Besides, you owe me, remember?”

Fuck.

“What a good way to blow off some steam,” he encourages, with a hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

Looking away, he doesn’t slow down his long strides as he takes the route to the library.I reluctantly follow because I have no other choice.

Time to pay my debt and hope we don’t get caught.

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