Page 30 of Colton

Avalon lifts a brow. “But not yours?”

“I can enjoy it,” I respond, tasting the tea.

Avalon finishes her tea quicker than anticipated, then her eyes start roaming over the library again. She glances at me, then looks away. There’s a trace of uncertainty in her movement, and I chuckle.

“You’re free to look around if you wish, Ms. Evans.”

Avalon grins, leaping out of the seat. She takes off her coat, neatly placing it on the back of the plush chair, her footsteps softly paddling through the vast room. My eyes close and somewhere in the distance, I hear the sound of a piano, which undoubtedly, is Emiliano trying to make a point.

This feels serene. The soft melody from downstairs is just loud enough to reach us both, gentle and not disturbing the sense of peace in the room. Avalon’s excitement is radiating inside of the library, and I don’t want to disturb the harmonious silence between us.

Here, it’s just the two of us, where no words are needed.

My eyes peel open, Avalon has moved a bit further away, to a more secluded area of the library. The book in her hands is thick, leather bound and watching her carefully remove the dust off with her soft fingertips, stirs something inside of me.

Her brows are narrowed, and she opens the book on a random page, reading carefully. I stand up, silently approaching her. She doesn’t notice, she’s too absorbed in the book to even hear me.

“Saint Valley; the history and origin,” I read the title, a brow lifting in surprise. “I didn’t know you were that interested in the history of this place.”

She gives me a lip tight smile. “I am, because what I can find about it on the internet, and what’s written in here are two different things.”

I bark out a laugh, then lean against the bookshelf. “Ah, then you might want to read all of these, too,” I reach for the additional four books. The covers are identical, and just by looking at them, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. “Five books, written by each of the five families. You can take them with you.”

Avalon blinks, closing the book. “Pardon? I can?”

“As long as you promise not to ruin them. They’re very old, and there’s not many copies out there, you see.”

“Of course!” She blurts out. “I promise, I’ll read them, and return them to you as soon as possible.”

I take the book off her hands, our fingers brushing briefly. There it is again, that spark that ignites inside of me, without my approval. It’s bigger this time, and not something that should be happening.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

The air around us shifts, and I can see Avalon so much more clearly. The little speck of gold hidden in those gorgeous brown eyes, the small scar above her right brow, and the beauty mark just beneath her bottom lip, hidden in plain sight.

Her scent is what makes the caged beast inside of me, stir. It’s as sweet as honey, and as forbidden as the emotions that are swirling inside of my chest. Avalon doesn’t move, and the proximity between us is making all sorts of irrational thoughts pop up in my mind, thoughts no man in my position should have about one of the students that are attending his Academy.

“Sir,” Avalon breathes out.

The word is almost silent, yet my keen ears catch it. It’s shaky, and the way she calls me that word, makes me want nothing more than to claim her mind, body, and soul. One of these days, her softness and her ignorance to what she’s doing to me is going to make me act upon these feelings, and I don’t know how she’ll react.

Without thinking, I reach, taking the strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. She sucks in a sharp intake of breath, her eyes never leaving mine. She doesn’t speak, hell — she’s barely breathing.

But, she doesn’t reject my touch.

She leans into my palm, ever so slightly, and her breath hitches. Something runs through my body, something I haven’t felt in years. Her soft lips part a little, and it takes all the willpower in my veins not to lean in, and kiss her. Because that single kiss would be fatal for us both.

The moment my lips touch her, she will be branded by me. She will belong to me entirely, wholeheartedly, and undoubtedly. She’ll become the obsession I should never have — in fact, she’s already become one.

“Avalon,” I say her name softly, trying not to spook her.

The image of us standing near the window in my study back at the Acacademy, flashes behind my eyes. The unanswered question from that night is gawning at me, and it’s finally the time for her to answer me.

“You once told me,” I murmur, taking a small step toward her, carefully observing her movements. “That you liked the idea of being one of my firsts, and promised you’d tell me why the next time we saw each other. The time has come.”

Avalon swallows thickly, her eyes dipping down to my lips for a split second, before looking back into my eyes. Something shifts in the way she’s looking at me, and the hesitation from a moment ago vanishes, as if it was never here in the first place.

“Because it means you’ll associate that first with me,” she says, trying to hide the crack in her voice. “It means I’ll become someone memorable to you.”