Home > My Sunrise Sunset Paramour(2)

My Sunrise Sunset Paramour(2)
Author: J.J. McAvoy

He doesn’t know, but I tagged him, so I can find and thank him.

“Monster, monster, stay longer, stay longer, shine bright all night, like the moonlight at midnight for a witch’s sight,” I whispered that part again and looked at Theseus.

But he was no longer in Ulrik’s arms. He was now lying on the couch in the corner of the library. Rhea sat on the end of the couch next to him, and I knew it was wrong, but I was little—

Jealous. Sigbjørn appeared in my mind, and I looked back over to him. His eyebrow rose, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. She taught me such emotion. None alive can eclipse Theseus, not even her own wishes. But that is a conversation for another time. Come now, read, Druella, we must go on even as he sleeps.

I nodded, also noticing everyone had come back around, except for Rhea. They were all still tense, clearly unsure of what to make of me now, but I assumed they trusted Sigbjørn and were now around me. I focused back on the pages, flipping them, and noticed there were pages ripped out, but that was less important than the words that were clearly on the page but somehow jumbled and dancing off each page. When Sigbjørn had held the book, there was nothing there. Now, in my hands, it was as if every letter had been dumped onto the page at random—every word jumbled and confused.

How was I supposed to read this?

Undo the magic. The silvery voice of a woman I did not know came to mind again. She popped up whenever she wanted to, her voice like a whisper in the wind.

How do I undo the magic?

She did not answer because she obviously had other pressing things to do and preferred just to come and go as she pleased! Okay. What did I do last time? A spell. A spell to undo whatever magic spell was on it. What was I supposed to say?

“Hidden pages…Show me the phrases?” I cringed at how bad that was. Nothing happened, either, nothing except for Ulrik snorting. I looked up to him, and he bit his lips together. Melora elbowed him so hard it caused strands of her slicked, short, black hair to fall forward. She nodded for me to go on as Ulrik glared at the side of her face, and when he glared, he glared from within an inch of her face, entirely in her space, and she ignored him.

Their playfulness helped but not by much.

Sighing, I looked back down.

“Words unseen, written before I was teen…” I paused, not sure what to say next, the words leaving me. And feeling all of their eyes on me didn’t help. I didn’t want to do this right now. It was all so freaky. Why was this happening? Why was this always happening to me now? I couldn’t even be a normal vampire!

“You know what, forget it. I can’t do it. I haven’t taken a course in spells. Or at least I do not remember! I am too upset to think of one magically.” I grumbled, tossing the book onto the desk. “Besides, aren’t grimoires supposed to listen to their witch or something. Mine wants to mess with me. And I want to set it on fire!” Instantly, the book went up in flames, and my eyes grew wide.

“No!” I screamed, grabbing it. I felt the heat for a second before it went away, and when I glanced down, it was already a pile of ash in my hands.

Oh, no, no, no!

Shit!

I stared at it in horror and shock before looking up to Sigbjørn, his face void of any emotion, and I wondered if I would be joining his first and second mate. He opened his mouth to speak, and I closed my eyes, wishing I had never touched this stupid book to begin with.

“I do not wish to rush you, sister, but homicidal witches are hiding in wait about our country,” Arsiein stated impatiently.

When my eyes snapped open, I saw Atarah elbow him. Everyone was now around me, everyone, and Rhea now stood beside Sigbjørn.

“Druella?”

At his voice beside me, I jumped away. When I turned, there was Theseus, his gray wolf-like eyes staring down at me in concern, his chiseled jaw right in my line of sight. I spun toward the couch, but of course, he wasn’t there, so I looked over all their eyes. They were now looking at me like I was part of their family again. One by one, even Rhea’s gaze was softer. It was only when I met Sigbjørn’s gaze that I saw understanding. He watched me slowly, reading my face.

“You went back,” he whispered, and I could only nod.

“I went back,” I agreed, my eyes still wide as I looked at the grimoire, which had gone back to disguising itself as a February 21, 1663 sermon. No, it had never undisguised itself because I had traveled back in time to before I had touched it—as I’d wanted to.

“Went back?” The sound of Theseus’s voice caused my heart to ache. “You twisted time again? Why? What happened?”

I could not even look at him. I just stared down at the grimoire, my hands at my side, not wanting to open it again, not wanting to hear this truth again.

“But you must,” Sigbjørn spoke. I kept my head and my mouth closed. “Druella, we do not keep secrets from one another in this family.”

How could anyone with you in everyone’s minds?

Precisely. It is a burden, for sure. Nevertheless, it is how we are. We trust one another with the truth even when it’s uncomfortable., for the secrets we keep can become weapons in the hands of our enemies.

“What if the truth is a weapon in my hands!” I snapped, looking at him. My eyes were now stinging as I fought back my anger, my frustration, and my tears. “I did not want any of this. I was fine in my little apartment, in my little city. I wasn’t hurt, and I wasn’t hurting anyone. No one was after me, and I knew who I was. I was fine!”

“Druella, speak to me. What is the matter?” Theseus asked, gently reaching for my hand, but I flinched, moving away and shaking my head.

If you will not speak the truth, I shall, Sigbjørn’s voice stated in my mind.

I just looked to him, wanting him to give me a break and seeing that he wouldn’t. His face was harsher now than in the past.

Do you not trust him? Do you wish for him to hear from his father, in front of his whole family, that his long-awaited mate betrayed him—

“I did not!” I hollered, and the library shook so hard that a few books fell from the table and the shelves around us.

Again, I froze, everyone shocked except for Sigbjørn and me.

“Father, I beg of you”—Theseus turned to him—“have these conversations aloud.”

“For the sake of my library, at least,” Hinrik muttered, looking over his fallen books with concern.

“I have said all that needs to be said to her,” he replied, his gaze now fixed.

Theseus sighed, frustrated at this. “I do not understand what is happening.”

“Oh, goodie, and here I thought it was just me,” Atarah stated. When she caught almost all of our attention at her poorly timed sarcasm, she shrugged. “I wished to break the tension, but I see I have failed. So, I shall be silent again.”

“No, you did well.” Arsiein smiled at her.

“You would say she did well if she belched between every word,” Hinrik stated, causing Ulrik to laugh and what a laugh, his whole chest moving with it.

“Must you be so loud?” Melora grimaced, plugging her ears with her finger, but Ulrik tried to pull her hand away to laugh in her ear.

As they laughed and joked, my shoulders relaxed a bit, not entirely, though, because of Theseus, who watched me with a pained expression on his face. Even when I was trying not to cause him pain, I still caused him pain.

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