CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX #2
“Relax,” I muttered. “It’s just a bunch of—”
The aisle shifted.
Not gradually. Not subtly. It was violent. Stone groaned, and the shelves lurched inward like jaws snapping shut.
The floating flames scattered in frantic, jagged spirals as the entire corridor twisted.
Books flew from their places, hovering in the air like a flock of dark, leathery birds, and runes flared in blinding bursts of crimson light.
Behind us—the path vanished.
One blink and the row stretched back toward the entrance; the next, it bent sideways, the shelves twisting like ribs beneath skin.
They split into three new paths that hadn’t existed a heartbeat ago. The floating flames hissed and tore away from us until only dim, blood-red embers remained.
Darkness pressed close.
My smirk faltered.
“…Aether?”
He was already glued to my leg, his claws biting into the flagstone hard enough to scrape sparks.
His golden eyes were wide and furious in the gloom.
“I told you.”
I swallowed hard. “Okay… so maybe you were right.”
The whispers surged louder, a cacophony of voices rising from the parchment.
Flame… Queen… Lost One… Come deeper…
They weren’t just in the air anymore.
They were inside the stone, inside the books, inside me.
I turned slowly, my pulse hammering against my ribs like it wanted out.
Each path stretched endlessly into shadow, bending in ways corridors weren’t meant to bend.
Panic clawed up my throat, hot and choking.
And then—fwoom.
Light ignited at the farthest end of the leftmost corridor.
A single book had slipped free from its shelf.
It hovered midair, its cover pulsing with fiery radiance
Symbols rippled across its spine, rearranging themselves again and again until the strokes sharpened into one unmistakable word.
PYRESON.
The sound it made was wrong. Not quite a whisper, not quite a growl. It was recognition—the sound of something ancient realizing it had finally been found.
A voice threaded through my chest like it had always belonged there. Mine.
Aether snarled, his fur rising in a jagged line along his spine.
“Don’t touch it.”
But gods… it was calling me.
The light beat like a heart. Like my heart.
My palm began to itch, something inside my skull thrummed, sharp and hungry, dragging me forward one step at a time.
“Ava,” Aether warned, stepping in front of me, his tail lashing hard enough to crack the air. “Do. Not.”
But my hand was already lifting. I called the fire. It answered instantly. Too instantly.
Sparks erupted across my skin, racing up my arms in blazing streams until my fingers ignited.
The library reacted like a wounded beast. Every floating flame exploded white-hot.
Shadows stretched into monstrous shapes across the towering shelves, and books trembled violently before tearing free to circle us. Runic wards screamed to life, veins of burning magic spider-webbing across the stone floors.
The hovering book answered my fire. Its cover split open with a searing hiss, and symbols crawled across the spine like fresh brands.
The language shifted before my eyes—ancient Ignis first… then something older. Crueler.
Until silver strokes settled into place. Sharp. Elegant. Lethal.
Veyari script.
The world tilted. My heart slammed once—hard enough to hurt.
The shelves shifted again, but not violently this time.
They moved with a slow, graceful reverence, clearing a path toward the glowing tome as if the library itself were bowing.
Not like a trap snapping shut.
They simply… moved.
Sliding back into place with a deep, grinding sigh, as if the library itself had reconsidered its temper.
The maze straightened, the floating flames settled into slow, drifting patterns once more, and the suffocating pressure in the air loosened its grip on my lungs.
The tome drifted toward me. Slowly, I reached out and took it. Heat pulsed against my palms, but it didn't burn.
Aether’s gaze dropped to the book burning in my hands, his golden eyes reflecting the molten glow.
“Well,” he murmured, his voice tight. “Are you going to open it?”
My heart was still racing as I swallowed hard and forced my fingers to turn the first page.
Firelight licked over diagrams of monstrous, beautiful creatures—tall fae with shadows coiling around their forms like living cloaks. Their mouths were captured mid-scream, revealing rows of gleaming fangs.
“They live on… Aelmyra,” I whispered. The word curled across my tongue like it had been waiting for me to speak it. “A hidden kingdom.”
My hands trembled as I traced the inked coastlines.
The territory was vast and wild, entirely absent from every map I had ever studied.
“No wonder no one can find them,” I murmured, my throat tightening. “But how the hell do they get so close to us?”
The next page flared brighter as I read, the Veyari script shimmering like liquid silver.
"Their gift is shapeshifting, unique among all fae. They may wear any skin they desire. Their powers: darkness, void, shadow. Immortal beings. Some—rare, born of old blood—may wield two.”
“Two powers?” My voice cracked. “What the fuck are these things…”
My gaze dropped lower. An illustration filled the page, several monstrous creatures rendered in dark ink.
A great feline with silver eyes. A scaled predator with a venomous tail. A winged beast with serrated jaws. No two looked remotely alike.
“Vel’tara. Soul-bound companions. No two alike. Each a predator. Each a weapon. Together—unstoppable.”
“Vel’tara,” I breathed.
Awe tangled with something much colder in my chest.
The script darkened, the ink appearing thick and wet. “
The shadows are their veil. Their eyes, when burning red, mark their ascension to full power. They may walk among fae unnoticed—until the hunger wakes.”
My skin prickled violently. Those eyes… the ones that had watched me from the dark. The ones that had followed me in my dreams. Then I saw it, centered on the final page of the chapter.
One above all: The Shadow King.
My stomach lurched. “A king,” I whispered.
“Beware the Shadow King. His bloodline older than kingdoms. Predator above predators. His strength unmatched...”
Aether went very still beside me. I shivered, the air in the library suddenly feeling like ice. A predator.
Then, the passage that truly froze my blood:
Their unions are not like ours. When they bond, it is not ceremony. It is surrender. Eternal. Sacred blood awakens what lies buried.”
“Bite,” I whispered, and the word felt like a death sentence. Dread seeped into my bones, heavy and terminal.
At the word, the torches exploded into brilliant, white-hot life.
Every rune in the room pulsed. Once. Twice. Like a heartbeat that did not belong to me.
My fingers trembled as I dragged them down the page.
Eternal. Awakened. Buried.
The library groaned softly.
A scroll tore free from a shelf nearby and snapped open. Somewhere deeper in the stacks, a book slammed shut with a violent crack that echoed like a thunderclap.
It felt like the place was finally recognizing me.
“This isn’t just history,” I breathed, the realization dawning on me. “It’s warning me.”
“Or baiting you,” Aether growled, circling tighter around my legs. “Time to leave. Now.”
The book suddenly slammed shut in my hands, the force of it rattling my teeth.
The runes dimmed. The air eased.
I sagged in relief, forcing my cramped fingers to unclench.
But then the cover changed.
Where there had been plain black leather before, something began to rise beneath the surface, pushing upward as if it were alive.
A jagged symbol emerged. Sharp. Curling. Like smoke. Like thorns. Like a crown forged from fire and ash.
My breath hitched. It pulsed once.
Alive.
“No,” Aether warned, his ears flattening. “Don’t touch it, Ava.”
But the pull was unbearable, something unseen tugging at the very center of my core.
My hand lifted without permission.
My fingertips brushed the raised leather of the crown.
Agony detonated through me.
“Fuck!” I gasped, jerking back as a white-hot heat tore across my skin. The scent of burning flesh filled the air, acrid and sickening.
I clutched my hand to my chest, my vision swimming with black spots.
When I finally looked down, my heart stopped.
The mark was there. Faint. Fresh. Undeniable.
A crown branded into the center of my palm.