𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐀︱Volturi kings

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒑

⁂

There were eyes in the room.

Juliette felt them before she saw them, the pricking sensation of being watched crawled up her back like a warning. For a moment, she thought back to the night before with the kings, to be under their intense probing. But no, this was different. This was the sense of being hunted, real, tangible.

She turned her head slightly, catching the faintest movement out of the corner of her eye. There, in the far corner of the library, Caius leaning against a bookshelf, watching her with an indecipherable expression.

Her breath caught in her throat.

His cold gaze met hers, but not in the same way Aro's curious interest did. No. Caius watched her as if she were an inconvenience, something to be studied from a distance.

Juliette dropped her eyes back to the dusty pages in front of her, heart beating faster as she pretended she could focus on the words.

She felt the air around her shift, and then he was standing in front of her, watching with an expression that hovered somewhere between amused and indifferent.

The tension in her muscles shifted from startled to frustrated as his lips arched into a smirk.

"You've been on that same page for ten minutes," he remarked, his voice laced with condescension. "Should I be concerned you don't know how to read?"

Juliette blinked at him, annoyance flaring.

"Maybe I'm just taking in the prose." She retorted, snapping the book closed with more force than necessary.

She sat in what appeared to be a sixteenth century settee, while Caius seemed to prefer standing and lurking. She didn't bother to hide the irritation in her eyes.

His lips quirked as he glanced down at the cover. "I wasn't aware you could read in Mycenaean."

"Huh," Juliette let out, aghast, as she scrambled to flip the cover over.

The first edition Pride and Prejudice stared back at her, mockingly.

"Oh ha ha ha," She let out in a deadpan voice. "Very funny."

"You weren't paying attention, then." Caius's smirk deepened. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have needed to check."

Juliette's jaw clenched, her fingers gripping the book tighter. He wasn't wrong, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"Maybe I've just been thinking." That was the closest she'd get to admitting thoughts of him, among two others, had been distracting her.

He raised a brow, unimpressed. "Thinking?" He repeated, as if the idea was ludicrous.

Her eyes darted to the shelves behind him, and then back at his bright red eyes. His presence was unsettling, especially for someone who seemed so indifferent to her to seemingly enjoy hovering around.

A sharp thought deeper in her treacherous mind wondered if he was also there to admire the collection, simply read, or maybe even just to see her.

She straightened up in her seat. "What are you doing here anyway?"