“What is a wivern?” I asked, unsure if I’d pronounced it correctly.
“What?” Kieran looked up from the book that rested in his lap.
“I found records from when Atlantians lived here,” I told him. “The word wivern appears frequently.”
Kieran drew his legs off the chest and rose, placing his book where his feet were. He came to stand by my shoulder. “Where?”
“See?” I tapped a finger below the faded black ink. “There are words I don’t recognize. Like here.” I drew my finger down. “Ceeren.”
“Hell.” Kieran leaned forward, turning the pages back to the title page. “It’s Atlantian records.”
I arched a brow. “That’s what I said.”
“I’m surprised this remained here all these years.” He flipped back to the page I’d been looking at.
“It was behind a couple of other records and covered in dust. It must’ve been forgotten.”
“Definitely forgotten. The Ascended destroyed any and all records of the Atlantians who once lived here. No matter how inconsequential as a census.”
“So, what does wivern mean?”
“A wivern was an Atlantian bloodline that was killed off during the war,” he explained. “They too were of two worlds, mortal and animal.”
“Like the wolven and changelings?”
He nodded. “Except the wivern could take the form of cats larger than those that roam the caves in the Wastelands. Here. Draken?” His arm brushed mine as he moved closer to point out a place farther down the page.
Air hissed out of Kieran’s clenched teeth as he jerked back his arm. I turned, finding him standing several feet from me.
I lifted my brows, thinking that was a bit of an overreaction to his arm touching mine. “You okay?”
He stared at me, eyes wider than I’d ever seen before, but bright in an unnatural way. “You didn’t feel that?”
“You touched my arm. That’s all I felt.” I watched him rub his arm. “What did you feel?”
“A shock,” he said. “Like being struck by lightning.”
“Have you’ve been struck by lightning before?”
“No. It’s a figure of speech.” He glanced at the door before those too-bright eyes settled on me. “You really didn’t feel that?”
I shook my head. “Maybe it was like that static charge you get when dragging your feet over the carpet.” A faint smile tugged at my lips. “I used to do that all the time to Ian.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me.” Kieran lowered his hand. “The Prince is coming.”
I opened my mouth, but the door opened a heartbeat later. Was Kieran’s hearing that good?
Casteel strode in, his hair swept back from his face, and it was like all the air had been sucked out, and the library suddenly became three sizes smaller. It was simply him, his mere presence immediately taking over the space.
He glanced between Kieran and me. “You two look like you’re having fun.”
Based on the way Kieran still looked as if he’d seen a spirit, I doubted it.
“I found a book of records from when the Atlantians lived here.” I picked up the book.
“Sounds real fun,” Casteel drawled.
“Perfect timing.” Kieran’s expression smoothed out. “Your fiancée has questions.”
The way he said the word fiancée made me want to throw the book at his head.
“Perhaps I have answers.” Casteel leaned against the desk. “And, yes, before you ask, you’re free to do as you please.”
“Thank the gods,” Kieran muttered, peeling himself away from the built-in bookshelves. He started toward the door. “Is all good with Alastir?”
Casteel nodded. “He and several of the men left to check the roads.”
“Good.” Kieran turned. “Have fun.”
I watched him close the door. “He’s acting weird.”
“Is that so?”
“He got a static shock from his arm brushing mine, and he behaved as if I’d done it on purpose.”
“You know how some electrical wiring can short out? Emit sparks or charges of energy?” When I nodded, he said, “Wolven can lose control over their forms if they come into contact with electricity, even at harmless levels. Sometimes, during a particularly bad lightning storm, they are often affected by it.”
“Oh. Well, then.” I paused. “He’s still weird.”