I forced myself to not think of her, because this lesson, time, and gold would be for nothing if I didn’t beat it into my thick skull. This was to speak to her, to actually hear her, which made it easier to focus.

After another two hours passed, and I could form the letters of A through J without mishap, I asked if he needed to stop.

“Do you need to take midday?” I asked, glancing through the window at the heavy veils of mist clinging to the keep’s walls. I hadn’t seen him eat that morning.

Brother Glyn shook his head and wrote. I will be on a fast until the evening, he told me. We have all the rest of the day. You’re making better progress than I’d hoped, but we’ll see if you retain it. 

By the time the sun fell behind Ravenscry’s walls, painting the sky a bloody red, my brain felt overstuffed, nearly numb. But I held up a hand, and slowly, painstakingly formed the letters without error: C-I-R-R-I.

Cirri is your wife? Brother Glyn wrote.

I nodded, still distracted by remembering the letters for the next word: H-E-L-L-O.

Glyn watched me form several more words, leaning back in his chair and nodding after each one. G-O-O-D, he signed back with one hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief at my understanding.

He switched back to the little notebook. That’s enough for today. Try to retain this much, and we’ll review tomorrow before we move on. You have the motivation to accomplish much in a short time. 

“I do,” I said, folding my hand in my lap. “She’s gone long enough with no one understanding her.”

Glyn slipped the page-marker ribbon into place and closed the book, and I finally rose from the couch, my legs tired from doing absolutely nothing all day, but it was worth it.

I gave him my hopes that the hospitality was to his liking, and escaped the Tower of Summer, following the path to the library in the hopes that Cirri was still there.

She was; Koryek and his retinue were stationed in various places throughout the library, leaving Cirri in her own little pool of light, the books spread before her. She’d twisted her hair up into a messy bun that spilled over her neck, and her fingers were splotched with ink stains.

I paused in the doorway, staring at her and thinking how strange it was to come to this room, once dusty and lifeless, and feel like I was coming home. Not until these moments, when I could collect Cirri for dinner and speak to her, had I ever felt like I truly belonged here, like this keep was my house.

She turned a page, ever so slowly, and wrote something in her journal. One of her hands drifted up, nudging aside a lock of hair to massage her neck, and my gaze focused on that smooth column.

My throat itched; even from here I could smell her, the skin musk and roses making my mouth water.

I had controlled myself last night, keeping my fangs firmly clamped together, but ancestors… the thirst never ended.

But I would rather drink convict blood from a wine decanter than frighten her away. Even if the thirst was a torment, and the ache to rut with her an agony, if it meant that she remained in my bed and let me touch her, I would take the asceticism and be grateful.

I prowled forward, letting my claws tap the floor to announce my presence. She straightened up, sucking in a breath as her back popped, and twisted her head to smile up at me.

“Surely you’ve finished the inventory and moved on by now?” I asked, resting a hand on her shoulder and doing my utmost best to not remember the way she’d felt writhing against my fingers last night, or I’d be tempted to imagine taking her right here on this table.

I did notice that she turned to a new page in her journal, preserving the note I’d written for her this morning.

Inventory is finally finished, and I’m beginning with the altar book, she wrote. I found one small portion of text in it that might prove useful—it appears to be a Veladari hymn, of all things, but I’ll take what I can get. 

“Save it for tomorrow,” I advised her. “Dinner is to be served soon, and I’ve missed you all day.”

There was a brief, unreadable flicker in those green eyes, but her smile didn’t waver. I missed you, too. 

I pulled out her chair and helped her organize the books—although my version of ‘help’ mostly involved keeping my claws off them—and led her to the little nook where dinner would be served. The servants were already bringing in the trays, uncovering a plate of paper-thin slices of meat and cheese, pickled vegetables, bread, and an assortment of honey and jam.

She laid her journal on her right, already writing as she rolled a pickled radish one-handed into a slice of cured ham.

I think you know how my day went. I’m going to be a hunchback by the time I’m done with this project, but it’ll all be worth it. I’m cross-comparing the hymn translation tomorrow. Where were you all day? What did you do?

There was no mention of my scent, so she knew I hadn’t been in the forest. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I wanted to gain more fluency before I surprised her with my new knowledge. “I’ve been studying, actually. But don’t ask me about what, because I won’t tell you.”

She arched a brow, dipping bread in jam. Keeping secrets now, are we?

“Only for a little while. When I’ve learned all I can, you’ll be the first to know what it is.”

Cirri chewed and swallowed, eyeing me with undisguised inquisitiveness. You know this wondering is going to drive me to madness.

I laughed a little, covering my mouth. “Consider how much time I’ve spent in the madness of wondering about you. Perhaps turnabout is fair play.”

She nodded sagely. Alas, I can’t argue that. Though in all fairness, I don’t make an effort to be mysterious. It’s simply a side effect.

“True, but… it still remains my secret for now. All I can promise is that you’ll be pleased.” Ancestors, I hoped she would be. And if this went well, perhaps Brother Glyn would be minded to earn more gold, to stay here and teach the other citizens of Ravenscry so that Cirri might not struggle any longer.

She ate more rapidly than I expected. Perhaps she’d skipped the morning and noon meals; I hadn’t been here to ensure she came up for air from the documentation. But when she finished the last bite, instead of writing more about the current work, she shut her journal, tucked it in her bag, and took my hand, beckoning to me to follow.

Of course I did as she asked, curious about where she was going.

She led me to the Tower of Winter, to my room. Heat jolted into my stomach, my cock hardening; perhaps, after last night, she too craved more than a touch…

But after she bolted the door, she dropped her journal-bag on the bed and vanished into the washroom. I heard the sound of water splashing, the faint scratch of scrubbing, and when she emerged she’d cleaned her teeth, brushed her hair, and her arms were… scrubbed to the elbows?

Cirri planted a hand on my chest, pushing me onto the bed. I sat obediently as she took out her journal and wrote.

Dinner is served soon, she said, and looked me in the eye. It will be slow, and perhaps not as intimate and ecstatic as you’ve described yet… but we are going to try. 

The heat in my veins died, even as the itch in my throat grew unbearable. For the first time, I wanted to recoil. “I’m unwilling to do anything that frightens you. I can feed elsewhere. I’ve been doing it for this long, it doesn’t matter if I continue.”

You can feed from me. Her jaw was set, chin in the air as she stared at me. I’ve considered this all day. It frightened me the first time, but I was unprepared then. Now I’m ready to try, and we’ll try it my way first—something easy, to help get past the first hurdle.