Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(59)

That was potential. That was power.

***

I left the library feeling restless and eager to talk about my findings with Adrian, though I had yet to see him today. Usually, I at least caught a glimpse of him turning a corner, and I wondered if he had left the castle entirely. The fact that I did not know for certain put me on edge, but more than that, his avoidance hurt my feelings—and that frustrated me more.

Perhaps he was investigating Ivka’s death, I rationalized. Or perhaps he had gone in search of the rest of Dracul’s men, whom we all believed to be dead or also stricken with the blood plague.

I found myself in the east wing, walking down the mirrored hall where I killed my father. I did not know why I had come here; perhaps I liked being reminded of the pain because no other hurt compared. Even now, it didn’t feel real, and sometimes I pretended it never happened at all, and that my father still resided in Lara. I pretended that he meant every word he ever spoke—my gem, my treasure, my Issi, you are worth every star in the sky.

I passed into the tower, and I climbed staircase after staircase, ascending in a dizzying spiral to the top of the roof. Memories from my past threaded together in my mind, and I recalled the first time I’d made this journey with Adrian so long ago as Yesenia.

“There aren’t enough stars in your sky,” I had said, staring up into the night.

I had wandered into the garden at night and he had followed, as he often did—my shadow, my protector. I was used to utter darkness, to a night where the only light came from the stars above, but here, there was so much light—so much fire.

Adrian looked up, exposing the long column of his neck, and I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him there and what he would do in response. Would his breath catch? Would he grip me tight? Would he draw my head back to do the same to me?

Before my thoughts could spiral, his gaze returned to me.

“You aren’t high enough,” he said and then extended his hand. “Come, I’ll show you.”

I stared at his hand, hesitant. It was a strange thought, but I had never touched him before. I had been too afraid, knowing deep down, I would be lost to him forever after. But how terrible would that truly be? Even if I was to die, at least he would have a piece of me.

I took his hand, and it was warm and rough. I liked the smile he offered before he led me into the shadows of the castle where the servants’ entrance was barely visible.

Inside, we were blanketed in darkness.

“Just a moment,” Adrian said, and his hand slipped from mine as he stepped away, and for the first time since I met him, I realized how soundlessly he moved.

Without him near, I felt colder, and I wrapped my arms around me tighter.

“Adrian?” I whispered his name because I could not feel him.

I gasped when a hand touched my waist.

“Do you fear the dark?” he asked.

I turned my head, and the stubble on his jaw scratched my cheek.

“No,” I said because it was true. “But I prefer the light. Nothing can hide in the light.”

“So you fear what lingers in the dark?”

“I suppose,” I said.

“Do you fear me?”

“No,” I said, too quickly. “Should I?”

“Yes,” he said. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“And what do I think?”

A light flared and I turned fully to face him. We were inches apart, and he brushed his fingers along my cheek, leaving a trail of heat that raced down my throat and into my stomach. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

He smiled wryly.

“You fear how I make you feel.”

He stepped closer, until there was no space between us and I had to tilt my head back to keep his gaze.

I did not respond to his statement but instead asked, “What do you prefer? The dark or the light?”

“Neither,” he said. “Evil basks in it all.”

His words sent a trickle of unease through me and I shivered.

Adrian often seemed so carefree. In the few months I had known him, he had approached me with a smile on his face and a light in his eyes, but now and then, I sensed something darker beneath.

“We should go,” he said. “You wish to see the stars.”

He led me through the corridor and into the castle, and I found myself smiling and giggling as we navigated the halls, avoiding members of the court and servants, as if what we were doing was truly scandalous.

“There are a lot of stairs,” Adrian warned when we came to the east tower. “If you get tired…”

“I am not like the women in your court,” I said, because it was true. I had grown up in Aroth, where we had worshipped the earth—digging deep into the dirt with our hands to grow our food, hunting and trapping and gathering fruit. To these people, I was wild and untamed.

But when Adrian looked at me, I felt…like myself.

He chuckled quietly. “Noted, sorceress.”

I took the steps first, and Adrian followed behind. He kept pace with me, and I wondered how quickly he would scale them if I was not holding him back.

“Will you not be missed at your post?” I asked. I knew Adrian was part of Dragos’s Elite Guard. They had a reputation for ruthlessness, carrying out his most personal orders, including, it was rumored, assassination.