a few awkwardly silent moments passed, Mina decided to pick up the books she’d knocked over and put them where they belong. Teague moved over to a chair, sat down, and picked up a book. He began reading.
The system of books had no order, nothing like the Dewey decimal system of her library. She really had no idea where to put the book on the creation of the Fates. She turned and tried to find a spot on the shelf she’d dislodged the book from, but the section housed a genealogy of the Fae families. She had to wonder at the books that were left out if Teague had been searching for answers to heal the Fae world.
“Nope, not there,” Teague said without looking as he flipped a page in his book.
She gave him an irritated look and moved over to the next shelf. This shelf was filled with books on the Great Siren War. She wanted to hold onto a few and tuck them away to read up on her heritage, but she didn’t want Teague to see her take them. Since obviously he had been researching her lineage. She reached up to put it away.
“Not there either.”
She turned and caught the barest smile quickly disappear under his stoic façade.
Finally, she came to a shelf which looked like it was full of love sonnets. Frustrated, she quickly shoved the book there and turned, hands on her hips, to wait for his smug look, but the chair was empty. He was already next to her, pulling the book back down off the shelf. He gave her a wry smile that would have melted her heart if she wasn’t sure another snide comment was coming.
“Menlo.” He shook the book in the air. “Belongs next to Menlay.” He switched hands and gently reached over her shoulder to shelve the book, bringing him within inches of her. Mina quickly handed him the next, hoping it belonged on the other side of the room.
He briefly glanced at the book and smiled again as he leaned closer and reached just above her head to put the book away. When he came back down on the balls of his feet, he was so close, she could hardly take a breath. Her head bumped into the wood shelf. She heard a wobble and looked up just as a decorative vase fell from above.
Teague grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into him as he jerked a few steps back. The vase crashed to the ground, barely missing her. Mina was flush against his body, her head resting against his chest, and she froze, unable to move. She could hear frantic beating, and it took her a second to realize she was hearing Teague’s heart. She glanced up at him, and he stared at her wide-eyed, his expression utterly confused.
As if he couldn’t comprehend his own racing heart.
“Thanks,” she whispered, unwilling to be the one to pull away.
“You’re welcome.” His arms held on too.
“I’ll clean that up,” Mina said softly.
“Leave it,” he demanded and moved his head lower.
“Prince Teague, are you in here?” Annalora called in an overly sweet voice.
She thought Teague cursed softly in Fae under his breath, but he pushed her away and took large steps toward the door to cut off Annalora.
Mina retreated behind the tall stacks of books as Annalora came to him and smiled brightly.
“Annalora, you’re looking for me?”
“Yes, I wanted to talk to you some more about what I had said earlier. Have you had a chance to think it over?”
“I have. I’m not sure what you’re proposing will solve my exact problem.”
“Of course it will. It’s a fact that the land will be healed when you choose your queen. Everyone knows that. The fate of our world has always been connected to the Fates. I can see the toll it’s taking on you, and I’m willing to share your burden. Together we can heal the land, and you will live.”
“I’m searching for other alternatives.”
“You’re dying. I know it because the land is dying. You’re not strong enough to sustain the land by yourself and control the armies. Others will come and try to overthrow you if you don’t bind yourself to another.”
“How dare you say that I am weak!” Teague’s eyes blazed, and the books on the shelves behind him started to shake and move in their place. “Do you not know who I am?”
“I know who you are.” She pushed on his chest right in the spot where the tip of