Within These Tangled Tales

Chapter Thirty-Five

—Rynbelle, Namera—

Avalas' determination was impressive. Altara wasn't certain she had ever seen someone work with such singular and vigorous focus before. He made it look impossibly easy, retrieving tome after tome from the seemingly never-ending bookshelves, scanning through them with a pinched brow, his lips moving on occasion when he found something particularly interesting. When he was finished, he would gently place the book on the steadily growing stack beside him and reach for another without complaint or a moment's pause. It was impressive.

And, also, incredibly frustrating.

Altara tried to keep her own thoughts focused on the task at hand, but for three days they had devoted every waking hour to searching this library for information on the Colossus and the Howling Abyss. Though they already knew their opponent, the Colossus had awakened early this time. No one believed it was merely happenstance. Someone or something had awoken him early, which meant his power could be greater than anything they had ever faced before. They needed to find a way to end him, for good this time. Not only that but they needed to learn more about the amber gems contained within the crowns of the first thirteen kings and queens of their world. The Wolves hadn't attacked since, but it was only a matter of time.

Their task was certainly not a small one, and though Beharie and Dara were doing what they could to help, along with their chief historian, it was taking considerable time and effort just to search through every tome on the shelves. Altara couldn't help but feel as though her efforts were insufficient. Who knew what Adix and Ori faced out there in the Howling Abyss while she sat there, in a horribly uncomfortable chair, bent over an ancient manuscript, her eyes beginning to blur from the strain of trying to read by candlelight? And to make matters worse, she seemed to be the only one struggling. Avalas remained unbothered by his task, which only added to her poor assessment of herself.

Altara breathed deeply and lowered her head to the table, careful to push the manuscript away before her forehead could touch it. She had made the mistake of doing so to the last one she had handled. The chief historian had walked in and spotted her. For such an elderly woman, she had a pair of lungs on her that could frighten a banshee.

Her eyes slipped shut. Just a moment. She would rest just for a moment and forget about the Colossus, the Wolves, the end of the world, the danger her friends were in, and the incredibly attractive male that sat at the next table over, who had no right to smell of such wonderful things like cinnamon, vanilla, and something she couldn't quite place. Another deep breath and she allowed his scent to envelop her, somehow stronger this time. A smile touched her lips. How she wished she had the courage to close the distance between them, to be bold enough perhaps to sit upon his lap and press a soft kiss to his lips. But the commander would never—

A gentle hand pressed against the back of her head. Altara held her breath at the contact, uncertain of what to do. So, she continued to pretend to be asleep as she felt that hand move slowly when she didn't stir. Long, nimble fingers trailed through her dark blonde hair to move to her back. The warmth of his hand seeped through the thin fabric of her dress. She hoped he didn't feel her breath hitch.

"I'm working you too hard, aren't I?" his deep voice was loud in the quiet room though he was trying to speak softly. The concern she heard was touching. "I keep forgetting my bad habits aren't just harming myself anymore. I'll do better in the morning, Altara. You'll get sick if we keep working like this, and I...I don't wish to see you suffer because of me."

Altara focused on her breathing, trying desperately to keep it even so that he would believe she was still asleep. His words, though, were wreaking havoc on her heart. He shouldn't blame himself. She knew what she was doing each time she skipped a meal or curled up to sleep in one of these monstrously designed chairs. He didn't keep her here. She wanted to remain, to help in any way she could. She—