The Blood Crown (The Blood Folk #2)

42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

T he familiar scent of ink and leather greeted Aurelia as she pulled the heavy walnut doors of the library open.

Warm air kissed her cheeks, her eyes adjusting to the glow of the hovering candles suspended overhead by magick.

When she’d gone back to the Capitol—when she’d never thought to see this place again—she’d squeezed her eyes shut and thought of it every night.

And now she was here. Back.

A shaky breath of relief escaped her despite the task that brought her here.

She’d left Ven and the Wraiths in the council chambers, needing a moment to herself. Whatever else they discussed, he could fill her in later.

After their last visit to the Allokin Kingdom, it was impossible to say when the Triarchy would reply to their request for audience—if they gave a response at all. And none of them could afford to sit idly by.

She’d put off coming here for as long as she dared, despite the urge to see this place again.

Don’t you wish to know what you truly are?

She’d hoped the words had been a trick—a distraction—but the coin of atonement only confirmed the sense of dread that had been twisting around her like a viper since she’d come back here.

Hello, child.

That voice still echoed in her mind. The deep, bodiless rumble of it whispering against her own thoughts—and yet, she’d managed to fight it.

Ven had told her once that the library somehow understood requests. Knew what you needed even when you didn’t. And Fate above—she hoped that was the case, because she couldn’t even begin to form the question aloud.

Her feet moved of their own accord, following the familiar path toward the second story of the library.

Those same worn leather chairs sat before the roaring fire. She chose one, pulling the low table between them closer, heart pounding.

Rubbing sweaty palms against her pants, she gazed into the flickering amber and ochre of the flames.

She wasn’t ready to ask the library the true question that had formed in her mind. The one that had hounded her since her magick had finally come to the surface—only to be something wholly unexpected.

So instead, she closed her eyes—quieting the small noises of the Allokin librarians and the Blood Folk that sat at the desks nearby and browsed the stacks.

Blowing out a breath, she tried to focus.

She spoke the question into her mind, wondering if it would be enough—wondering how the library would even know what she’d asked.

Two dull thuds hit the low table.

A stack of worn leather books sat in front of her as she cracked her eyes open.

“Thank you,” she whispered.