Rakshasa Boyfriend: Hassan (special preview)

“You aren’t insulting me, I know who you are talking about. Not all Drow are loyal to one another. Just look at me,” Hisede laughs.

“Mythri,” I catch up to her. “I was wondering if I could be allowed access to the Rakshasa Library.”

Mythri smiles at me. “It is open to everybody. But I highly suggest you get a library pass from the front desk. It’s a little card that keeps track of the books you borrow.”

“I can BORROW the books?” I squeal.

“You’ve just unleashed a monster, dear cousin,” Arlan chuckles. “There is no bigger bibliophile in all the Empire thanas my sister. I would dare say her own collection could rival yours.”

“Is that a fact?” Mythri smiles. “Well then, you are exactly the kind of monster I built the library for.”

“I’ll take her,” Chiyo says quickly. “You deal with Arlan and I’ll deal with Amelia.”

I’m starstruck, Chiyo is one of the most mythological warriors in all the Empire. I remember my Dad telling us stories about the woman who tamed a dragon and saved the entirety of the Rakshasa Country. To think she’s my cousin!

“Thanks for taking me,” I beam up at Chiyo like an awestruck school girl. 

“It’s easy to get lost on the University campus,” Chiyo chuckles. “I would hate for our family to go missing so close to home.”

“I get so weirded out when youI say that,” I tell her.

“Say what?” Chiyo smirks.

“That we’re family!” I gasp up at her. “You and Mythri are as close to gods as we mortals can get. Yet somehow you’re related to our crappy little House?”

“The Brachuss aren’t crappy. If it wasn’t for Arlan, Arjun might be dead and Ophirin in a lot worse shape. It’s men like him that stop wars, not start them.” Chiyo pats my back. 

“You don’t live with him,” I scoff. “Without Hisede he’d be an absolute mess.”

“They’re close?” Chiyo has a knowing smirk on her face.

I scoff. “One way to put it.”

Chiyo leads me to a massive building near the center of the University campus. It’s tall and built in blue glass. Inside, the air is cool and the light is dim, the sort of perfect atmosphere for reading. The smell is crisp, like worn old pages and well loved spines, and it brings me to my happy places.