Page 119 of Librarian

“Come on, dude. She shouldn’t, but we both know she totally would, and she has enough to deal with right now. Our job, as members of her polycule, is to bring good stuff into her life. You know, like pizza and orgasms.”

A really immature part of me wants to point out that at least I’m helping with one of those things.

Leo pinches his brow. “Lambert…”

But his brother has already wrapped one arm over his shoulders and is reaching for me, expectation shining in his eyes.

Hell. No. I never agreed to group hugs.

I step back.

Lambert’s grin doesn’t dim, and he holds out his fist instead. I stare at it for a second, then reluctantly tap my own against it.

“Speaking of bringing good stuff into her life, I’m gonna grab Westley from Fort McKinley so he’s here when she wakes up. You’re doing great with the windows, but don’t forget the skylights. If it rains, she’ll want those open.”

That quickly he’s gone again, heading through the door with a quiet knock and a murmured destination.

“He should’ve taken someone with him.” Leo frowns, like he’s considering following.

“Fort McKinley is safe enough,” I say. “Halinor chucked out Isidora’s overseers and dismissed the last enforcers before we went after Jasper. She’s still a parriarch, and they didn’t have any excuse to hang around when they finished scouring the place for necromancers and found nothing. He’ll be fine.”

Leo just grunts.

I switch my focus to the roof. Damn it. Mathias replaced all of that stained glass with a plain white drop ceiling.

“It wasn’t enough for him to be the evil undead,” I mutter. “He had to be a shitty interior designer as well.”

Leo snorts. “Unlimited power and good taste rarely go together.”

Thinking about some of the ostentatious places I’ve retrieved books from as a collector, I’m inclined to agree. Kyrith is the exception.

“What do you reckon are the chances he left the skylights and just covered them up?” I ask.

Leo bites his lip, considering it. “Hewasrunning out of power.”

I flick through to a dog-eared page near the back of my grimoire and lift myself into the air. Shoving one of the white tiles up with my free hand, I groan in relief.

“Still up here, thank magic. I’m not sure I could’ve recreated this.”

Transmutation has never been my thing. Destroying stuff, however, is firmly in my wheelhouse.

It’ll take minutes, at most, for me to crush the ugly tiles and the metal supports into dust. But how do I do that without making a mess and damaging the hammer beams…?

I’m so stuck in my thoughts that I forget to keep an eye on Leo until he asks, “Are we good?”

I glance down at him, then let my head fall back so I don’t have to read the hope in his eyes.

She asked him to call her ‘Kyrie’ again.

He chose her over his family.

I can’t ignore either of those facts.

Lambert is right; the last thing I want is Kyrith’s unhappiness. She might’ve originally responded to his betrayal by stonewalling him, but it’s obvious to anyone with a brain that she’s softening.

She’s not the type to deny herself something because she cares what others think—or Pierce wouldn’t currently be wrapped around her like ivy—but Lambert’s right; if she makes that decision and Leo and I keep fighting, we’ll be the assholes making her miserable.

I won’t do that to her.