Chapter 9

Blakely

I was getting very, very tired of gods throwing me over their shoulders.

At least Azrael didn’t stomp like his brother. Orion’s shoulder had left a splotchy bruise on my stomach that still wasn’t fully healed.

My hair had fallen into my face, obscuring the room we’d just entered from view. It wasn’t until I was slung backwards, my ass hitting the cushioned seat of a chair, that I was finally able to see. All around us were bookshelves. They lined the walls, towering high above our heads, nearly kissing the domed ceiling speckled with glittering stars.

Draco padded past each one, waltzing over to the corner of the room before sitting on his hind legs. I’d yet to see the god of the Lycans in his human form. It was hard to believe he preferred living as a wolf when his kind were forced to shift every full moon.

Old tomes sat on many of the shelves, but also cluttered the room in messy stacks. A large wooden table sat just a few feet away, pushed up against an open window. The