For a long time, Layla didn’t move.
The light from the windows seemed colder now, the air heavier. Every sound, the tick of the clock, the creak of the old building, felt altogether too sharp.
Then, finally, she exhaled, pressing a hand against her chest.
Maddie poked her head out from the kitchen. “He gone?”
Layla nodded. “Yeah.”
Maddie frowned, “He looked like a secret agent and a tax collector had a baby.”
A shaky laugh escaped her. “That’s…not inaccurate.”
“What did he want?”
“Just a book,” Layla said softly.
Maddie nodded, seemingly content with the answer, and Layla heaved a breath before throwing herself into the rest of the day.
But as much as she tried to exhaust herself moving piles of books, recataloguing the science section, labeling three boxes of new kids’ books, it was no use. Her thoughts kept drifting back and back again to Julian. And the male that commanded him.
If Dominic had even the slightest suspicion, the merest thought that she was hiding something from him…
The dread curled up in her stomach, making itself a tidy little home.
By the time the hand on the old clock inched to five, Layla was a nervous wreck. Her hands still trembled when she locked the door.
Maddie was wiping down the tables, humming tunelessly. “You okay? You’ve been weird all afternoon.”
Layla forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Fine,” Maddie echoed, unconvinced. “You sure that overgrown bat didn’t hex you or something?”
Layla laughed, too quickly, “He’s not a witch, Maddie. He’s part of the Volkhov Pack. Quite high ranking, actually.”
Maddie’s eyebrows lifted in understanding, concern flashing across her gaze. “And you said he wanted a book?”
“Pack business,” Layla said, “nasty business. That’s all.”
Her friend nodded slowly, “Nothing to do with you?”
Layla gave her what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Nothing to do with me. Now go on, go home, I’ll finish up here.”
Maddie hesitated, then shrugged, pulling on her coat. “Alright. But if he comes back, call me before you let him in. Or, you know, before you die of whatever ominous curse he puts on you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Layla said with a small smile. The idea of her very human friend facing down an alpha like Julian was amusing, no matter her mood. Maddie would face him without fear. Probably try to smack him across the snout with a spatula.
When Maddie was gone and the door locked behind her, the shop was utterly still. The last rays of daylight bled gold through the windows, fading into blue. Shadows stretched between the shelves, deepening, softening.
Layla lingered behind the counter a moment longer, watching the light die. Then she turned toward the far corner.
The rug looked ordinary. Threadbare, patterned with curling leaves and faint wolf motifs, just another piece of salvaged decor. She crossed to it, kneeling on the floor, fingers slipping beneath the edge to find the small notch in the wood.
The panel lifted with a muted creak. Cold air rose from the narrow staircase below.
Layla hesitated only a moment before descending.
The basement was small and low-ceilinged, its stone walls older than the town above. Once, it had stored old archives and damp boxes of records. Now, it was something else entirely. Candles burned in shallow dishes, throwing pale light across the cramped space. Books and notes lay stacked on a central table, parchment and leather, some cracked, some newer, all smelling faintly of dust and iron.
