Great, my king had found my hiding spot. Here came the torture.
But, we didn’t become queens by sipping tea and keeping our gloves white. The snarky tone in my voice was saturated to the highest limit possible: “Can I help you, Bolton?”
I didn't let my eyes find his; instead, I kept them low and stuck to the pages of my new favorite book. Rosalia was a queen in disguise, and I was committed to finding out what happened to her, once the unnamed coven showed up at Arcadia.
Bolton grabbed the entire book from the table and thumbed the pages without any delicacy in his touch.
He was rough and cruel, even down to his fingertips. “What's this? Some light reading?”
I didn't even have a chance to speak before Luna’s tone shifted from sweet and innocent to annoyed and pissed off. “She found it on the shelf, which is weird, because I thought those books were removed.”
What was her problem with this damn book?
It's an old book; none of the people were alive; and the jibber jabber of an old man wasn’t relevant now.
Bolton sat on top of the table, instead in one of the twelve chairs surrounding the table, and kicked his feet up on an empty chair with his back toward me. He completely cut me out of the conversation, and I was sure it was an uncalculated move.
I would leave, but now I wanted to know what the fuss was with this stupid book. No, I had to know now.
“I put it there.” His deep voice was smooth with no lumps of rudeness to be seen. He was simply factual.
Why did he have this book? Why would he hide it in plain sight?
Luna’s pissed off switch just blew, and she tossed all of her colorful pens and the rest of her supplies in her bag, before she stopped between the boys.
“You're playing with fire.”
Coming from Luna, her words were more ominous and threatening. Whatever this was really about had her panties twisted, causing a type of seriously uncomfortable chub rub.
Nyx went after her; I'm sure all this was a great opening for him to comfort her without revealing how much he felt for her.
I didn't understand their relationship at all. It was clear to the deaf and blind that they had this magnetism that couldn’t conceal how much love was really there.
I couldn't help wondering if they tried and it didn't work, or if maybe something else happened that kept them from trying.
Bolton swiveled around, facing me with one leg on the table with him now. “And…? Still think I'm crazy?”
It wasn't until he asked me that I was forced to analyze my thoughts and take inventory of my sanity after last night. Thankfully, it was still holding up.
The book wasn't a legend or myth. The unknown cover was the marked ones; the town was terrified of the sociopathic rage that came after a declaration like that; and I was the girl that the Devil had his sight set on.
Damn it, if I only got to read further. I might know my aligning fate with Rosalia.
“You still sound crazy. I have a project to do. Are we done here?”
My phone buzzed against the mahogany table with so much force the librarian leaned over her desk’s edge just to shush me with eye contact and a curt, “No cell phones.” I picked it up off the table, quickly reading the response from Bolton’s enemy right in front of him without him knowing it.
I was plotting his downfall right in my hands, and his unknowingness was what I was going to drop my new crown in.
Opening my direct messages I read Caellum’s response: I got it now, foot fetish? What school do you go to?
The green active icon attached to his profile photo made replying right away easy. I quickly typed Arcadia into the box and hit send.
I was just hoping that didn't deem me untouchable, but a warning sign he could just ignore if it meant giving Bolton a taste of his own medicine.
Bolton grew irritated with waiting his turn, while my whole attention was clearly elsewhere. He snatched my phone from my hands. He read the messages and clenched his fist around my phone in an alarming way, before he brought it to his mouth in a silent scream.
He was exactly the kind of angry I envisioned—the same kind he made me feel between kisses. “Why are you messaging Caellum? You don't know him.”
“Exactly, he hates you, so he has no reason to lie.”
He stood up, dropping my phone with a thud against wood, before drilling his closed fists into the tabletop. “I put that book there so you'd put shit together yourself, not run for help. He can't be trusted.”
I felt like challenging for no reason other than I could. “Why can't he be trusted? He had a mark, just like you said.”
His expression was pinched everywhere that he had a sharp feature: eyes, lips, nose, even his jaw. All were tight with anger and getting more severe with every word I spoke.
“He's not part of the circle anymore.”
He paused, standing up straighter and making every intention of walking away, when he pivoted towards one last time. “For someone smart enough to take me as your throne, you're not thinking like a royal. Instead, you wanna sleep with the enemy.”
He walked away with a look of disgust, and I swiped the book back, pulling it close to me and keeping its legacy safe.
I opened to the page with a drawing of Rosalia and continued my reading where I had left off.
Henry Jon
He demanded her as a sacrifice, but promised to not hurt her if he could prove she was the one. His words were a snake in the tall grass, unseen and venomous. The Devil explained how sure he was that our innocent Rosalia was the essence of his lover from his world.
His world… he described it with so much beauty that I wondered if Hell was meant to draw us in and betray us after death with fiery pits.
He needed to sacrifice her human body, so his unknown cover could return home. Her essence would live on with him, and her human form would die in its place, as an offering for desire.
Rosalia was my sweet daughter, my youngest and most able bodied. She was bright in a way the other village young envied her and followed her everywhere. She was a leader, cursed with the female anatomy. She would never be able to take my place, and it brought so much sorrow that I almost believed death was a better fate.
I focused on every detail of Rosalia's portrait on the adjacent page. She was young, maybe fifteen at the most, but her age wasn't yet disclosed.
Her skin was flawless, and her eyes were much wider than average with an almond shape to them. The curls she wore almost made a crown, like she knew her purpose all along. She was beautiful and strong.
I read more of the book before I pulled up Google on my computer to search a combination of her name, Arcadia, and key words like sacrifice. There were millions of results, and I didn't have time to search them all.
I knew just by the lack of sun that the library was most likely closing soon. I let myself get lost down the deep, dark hole of internet searching until the librarian pranced over and lifted an eyebrow at my things still sprawled on the table.
“We are closing in ten minutes, Arianna.”
Why did adults do that?
Say your name like you needed to be reminded? We both knew my name without it being mentioned.
I rolled my eyes without noticing, until the sigh left my mouth, volunteering my dedication to this story and validating its highlights.
I was coming off full bookworm, and it seemed like a gateway drug to a long reading list.