Page 89 of Wolf of Ashes
“You were supposed to be sleeping,” I say to Diavolo.
“Impossible,” he replies, ramming his fist against his chest. “Impossible to sleep.”
“Oh.”
My heart.The moment I saw the picture on the scroll, I felt pain. “I woke you up.”
“What happened? Are you hurt?” he demands to know, but his focus flies to my breast, as if he’s suddenly drawn to the parchment hidden there. He takes another step toward me, his focus intensifying. “What have you got there?”
“Breasts,” I say without budging. “You’ve seen them.”
He narrows his eyes at me, clearly not even remotely amused, and the heat of his glare makes my instincts prickle.
The closer he steps toward me, the more his ring glows.
The darker his fury grows, the more my own anger rises.
My hand closes over the front of my shirt where the parchment sits, and my lips draw back from my teeth in a warning.
“It’s mine,” I say. “My mother left it for me.”
“Yours?” he asks. “If it is what I think it is, then it belongs to nobody. Should be held by nobody. Should not even be looked at.” He stops to draw breath, his chest rising and falling harshly. “Not by any creature who values their life.”
My eyes widen and I take a step back, a shiver passing through me. I’m close to pressing up against the door and I don’t like the feeling of being cornered. Still, I clamp down on my ire and try to reason with him. “I’m not carrying anything dangerous.”
“Prove it to me. Show me.”
My hand tightens around the material of my shirt and the scroll beneath it.
It’s a damn picture, for fuck’s sake.
I snarl back at him. “Don’t try to take it from me.”
When he makes no further move toward me, I slowly reach into my shirt and pull the parchment free.
The black paper gleams in the light of the keeper’s magic, its surface glittering in a way it didn’t in the park.
I begin to unroll it, but his voice is sharp. “Stop. Don’t show me what’s on it.”
Looking up, I find his face turned away. His entire body is stiff with tension and the corners of his lips are turned down.
He speaks more softly now, but not once does he look at me. “I don’t understand why your mother would give you something that could destroy you, but she has. Don’t let anyone else touch it. Not me. Not even the panthers. Find a place to put it and leave it there. Don’t keep it next to your skin for longer than you need to.”
I’m having trouble reconciling his response with what I saw on the page, and when I hesitate, he snaps.
“Do it!” he snarls. “Now!”
I jolt at the fear in his voice, finding it difficult to accept that the keeper of dark magic can feel dread at all, let alone that it’s being caused by something as simple as a piece of paper.
Especially one that, as far as I’m concerned, contains an image that can only motivate me to achieve my goal.
But I can also see that there’s no way we can have a conversation until I put the parchment away.
Stepping as wide of him as I can in the entrance, I hurry into the bedroom since that’s the only place with nooks and crannies to put the scroll. I reach for a jewelry box I noticed earlier and place the parchment in the bottom of it, pulling other pieces of jewelry over the top of it.
I hesitate before I close the lid.
I nearly reach back in and pull the paper out, fighting the sudden impulse to return it to its spot against my skin.
