Grinning, I snapped the book shut.
Heading toward the door, I passed a shelf of books that all had the same width, height, and pretty gold lettering on the spine.
Squirrel.
I stopped and my smile turned into full-blown curiosity. These were yearbooks! The gold lettering on the spines were years from the 1900s up until now.
I traced my finger over the years, counting down to when my father would’ve been here.
But the yearbooks for the years he would have been here … were missing.
Gone was the year he graduated, along with the six before.
What the mage?
I climbed to my feet, intending to ask Mrs. Edi about the missing yearbooks, when I heard the large library doors squeak open, and the trickle of voices wound through the shelves.
“Edi, go to lunch early,” a man’s gravelly voice said. “And don’t come back for at least an hour.”
“But—” she interjected, possibly to tell them a student was still in here.
“Now!”
“Yes, sir,” she squeaked.
What an asshat!
I glared at the air, offended for the librarian, and her shuffling footsteps disappeared, followed by the door clicking shut. Oh crap! What was I supposed to do now? I stepped toward the aisle to let whoever was here know of my presence when someone else spoke.
“It stinks like wet dog in here,” another man said. His voice had the musical quality of a high mage, specifically the one in the royal blue robes who seemingly had it out for me.
Nervous anxiety crawled down my spine.
Hiding might be better.
“Are you certain there are no other wolves in here?”
Peeking through the shelves, I saw the high mage from the council standing near the door, and beside him was none other than the king himself. Not that I’d ever met the jerk, but his pictures were plasteredeverywhere. He had the same dark hair as his nephews as well as the jacked body, but his chin jutted with belligerence, and his muddy-brown eyes glinted with malice. Rage and Justice clearly took their mean-lessons from this douchebag.
The king locked the library doors with a click and then turned to the high mage.
Raising his eyebrows, the king said, “I’m sure you’re not implying that I stink, Kian.”
“How’s our project going?” the high mage asked, ignoring the king’s statement. “Any idea how Crescent trash was summoned early? I was hoping things would be further along than they are, Declan.”
“The investigation is still ongoing. We’ve had someoddinterferences.” The king groaned. “Also, we’ve had our first fated mate-pair of opposite clans, but no one knows who they are. Another project I’ve been pursuing.”
My throat went bone dry. The fact that they were working together was scary as hell, especially because both “projects” centered around me. I strained to hear more regarding the fated mates.
“A mated pair, from opposite clans?” Kian asked. “That’s impossible.”
“Indeed.”
“That’s… a high crime.”
I swallowed hard, and then my heart stopped when the high mage said, “Find out who they are, and have them report to the High Mage Council.”
Frick. I knew fated mates from opposing clans was bad, but a high crime?
