Page 152 of Librarian

Isidora is dead. North is next in line to be rector, but he’s not parriarch yet. Has there ever been an instance of a vicegerent becoming rector before? Whether there has been or not, Mathias has claimed the title.

When he’s dead—if we manage to kill him—the next house in the cycle is…

Ó Rinn.

Rector.

No way.

Someone would’ve mentioned something. I’ve got to be overthinking this. Surely North will just take the position next. He’ll probably struggle, but Kyrith and Eddy have his back.

Somewhere in the middle of my mental crisis, we resumed walking. Before I know it, I’m staring across the kitchen island at Kyrith as Pierce lifts her onto the sideboard next to whatever he’s cooking and kisses her smiling face.

It’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever seen him act with anyone, and when Lambert meets my confused stare, he points at the two of them and gives me the biggest, shit-eating grin.

Of course, he would find the idea of Pierce Carlton falling head over heels to be entertainment-worthy. Honestly, I do aswell. It’s even funnier because she’s a liminal, and his family are some of the biggest adept-supremacists out there.

I keep quiet as he serves our food, watching Kyrith’s face for any indication that she might not be in the mood for what I have planned.

Is it cowardly to start while she’s asleep in her bed?

Maybe.

But hours later, as I tie the blindfold around her sleeping face, I can’t bring myself to care.

“Be gentle with her,” Lambert whispers, slipping down the stairs.

I nod, praying he doesn’t miraculously develop x-ray vision when he glances at the bag at my feet.

I have no intention of being gentle.

That doesn’t mean I won’t be careful, but my kind of care involves kissing her ankles as I bind them to the spreader bar. I’m cautious not to wake her as I lift her wrists and cuff them to the headboard. She’s a heavy sleeper, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise before everything is ready.

I give North strict instructions to watch for any signs that her bindings are too tight or constricting her blood flow, then step back to admire my own work.

At the sight of her bound and naked on the sheets, something in me settles. The nerves from earlier burn away, replaced with rightness.

I don’t need to second guess myself. I don’t need to be gentle like Lambert.

Kyrie has him for that.

I toy with the idea of a gag, but decide against it, dropping the rubber ball back into my bag of toys.

We haven’t discussed non-verbal safe words. Besides, this might be the only time she lets me do this. I want to hear her sobbing and pleading with me. Her contract didn’t cover the useof cameras, or I’d record our first time too. Make her watch it back with me while kneeling at my feet.

Later. All of that will come in good time.

Pressing one knee onto the mattress, I trace the line of Dakari’s necklace with one finger.

My collar is going around her neck the moment she forgives me.

I stroke her lips, tracing the line of them.

Her breathing speeds up, and she leans into my palm, though I doubt she’s fully conscious yet. If we’d been doing this for a while, I might wake her with my cock in her mouth, but she literally agreed to this a few days ago. We’re starting small.

Tying her up while she sleeps is a good first step. North admitted he’s already done something similar, so I’m hoping she’ll react well.

“Wake up, Kyrie,” I croon softly by her ear. “It’s time.”