As Roane resumes climbing, I become aware of a distant, steady drum beating. It takes me a while to realize it’s his heartbeat.
I blink against the firm pectoral I’m mashed against, letting this new reality sink in. I’m being carried by a tall, grumpy fae warrior who happens to be the guardian librarian of the Areon, a haunted book resting on my stomach, a lioness and a raven leading the way… in a world inside a mountain, which is apparently full of monsters, a world within a hollow world. A mirror within a mirror.
How did this happen?
Why doesn’t anyone know about this?
Why were the tales Naida told me so vague and unhelpful?
The silence is only making the buzzing inside my head louder. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I think I hear distant screeches and howls, but it could be the wind.
It’s not windy now, though, and Roane’s warmth is seeping into me, lulling me into sleep. So warm… The rhythm of his steps and the pace of his heart are as much a hug as his arms around me.
Then I’m jolted out of sleep when he shakes me, rattling the insides of my head. “Stay awake.”
“What…?”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
I blink heavy lashes. “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Your heart is beating too slowly. I can hear it. Stay awake.”
“But I…”
“You could die. For all the Gods’ sakes, Aline, open your eyes! Keep your gaze on me.”
The force of that command hits me like lightning, dispelling the drowsiness, lifting the weight off my lids. The use of my name is a spell, dragging me back into consciousness screaming and kicking.
Is it really magic, though? I gaze up at his determined face, the stray strands of black hair clinging to his brow and temples, the clenched jaw and gray eyes that are shining like crystals.
Whoa. Pretty.
My breath catches. My body responds—sluggishly, for sure, but parts of it awake as if the command touched every part of me. My focus snags on details, like the scar on his cheek, a clean cut but badly healed, another smaller scar through a dark brow, a small golden stud in one earlobe, and black dots inked along the tips of his ears.
He looks… wild. Feral. Dangerous.
It’s definitely magic. The lust gripping my body can’t be natural, especially when I was, according to him, close to death mere moments ago.
My heart is pounding now, racing.
The same way he’s racing up the steps—toward yet another gate cut in the hillside. Mutilated statues stand on either side and the double doors are so tall I have to crane my neck to see the arch capping them.
We’ve arrived. I know without being told that we’ve reached the true Library of Areon.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STRANGE WAYS
ADELINE
Olm is silent inside my head and whatever new spell of energy kept me awake until now is starting to wane. My eyes close but I’m kept awake by the book thumping against my hollow stomach with every step Roane takes.
The light is fading, and it’s only when his steps start echoing that I realize the dimness doesn’t mean I’ve drifted off.
It means we have gone through the gate and entered the library.
Through my lashes, I glimpse a high-ceilinged, domed room, but where are the books? It seems too small for what it’s supposed to house, which is the entirety of magical books, at least the ones caught and surrendered to him.
