Chapter 185. Behind The Shelf III
Maisie
It turned it being able to read ancient books didn’t at all equate to understanding it.
Whatever language this was, it was written with too many old words and phrases that no longer existed, making it impossible to make any sense of any of it. I needed time to translate it, when I wasn’t panicking about being trapped for more than two hours in here with a man who kept making cynical remarks that made me want to commit murder.
Three insanely tall shelves and a thousand books later and we were both covered in sweat, and still hadn’t found the lever.
The air was slowly growing thicker and that oppressing feeling was seeping into my bones, making me weary. Bastian had long shed his sweater and shirt, his bare chest dripping in sweat. If I hadn’t been in a bond myself and if I didn’t dislike him very much right now, might have appreciated the view.
But I couldn’t get past the growing panic that we were trapped in a silver cage with no way out.
Somewhere between the second and third hour, we braved going even deeper into the library. It was more shelves and old abandoned carts of books and scrolls, some of which were completely beyond saving, and the ones that weren’t, I added to the growing pile under my arms.
And then, Bastian took a turn to the left, taking the lighter with him, and while I wasn’t exactly scared of the dark, something about this place made me feel like there was something watching us. Some presence I couldn’t see.
I followed him and came to a stop when I found him holding the lighter over something in the center of this section. Following his gaze, I saw something that made my skin crawl.
There were pieces of broken chalk scattered along the ground. And then, there was a circle etched into the ground. A perfect one, broken off at one point of its circumference. And there was a smear of what looked like dried up blood where the break in the circle was.
"What is that?" I whispered, and Bastian jumped.
I guessed he was just as spooked as I was, though his strong, stoic features hid it better.
He straightened. "Someone must have been crazy enough to believe the ancient myths enough to draw a summoning circle."
"A what?"
"In the past, when humans were tired of praying to their gods and getting no responses, they believed it better to turn to darker arts. I’m sure you must have heard it somewhere. Draw a circle, summon a demon, pay the price and have your wishes granted. It’s a silly sailor song we hear at the ridge sometimes," he said. Then shook his head. "But it’s only a nonsensical myth. This is why schools are overrated. They drive people insane. We should keep looking."
He began walking back in the direction we came from, but my eyes lingered on the blood in the circle. And I wondered if Bastian saw the marks gouged into the earth on the outside of the circle.
***
I plucked another book about bloodlines off another shelf, placing it on the pile atop my shed sweater.
"Why were you looking in that section of the library anyway?" Bastian asked, climbing onto the top rack of the third wall nimbly. His words were just another variation of, "We never would have gotten trapped in here if you weren’t snooping around old books."
I couldn’t have said I didn’t agree with him.
I lifted my head. "What is your mother planning to do with me?"
Bastian stopped. "That’s what you were looking for in those history books?"
"No. I was looking into the Thorne bloodline..." I tracked off, realizing Bastian probably knew more about Dad’s past life than I would ever be able to find elsewhere. "Did you meet my father?"
"Briefly," he said. He was scowling. "I was a child during his time at the hills."
There was a long pause while I waited with bated breath to hear more from him, but it seemed that was all Bastian would give to me. He caught sight of my curious stare and added, "You should ask mother, if you’re so eager to know more. I believe there will be an opportunity to meet soon."
I drew back. "What are you talking about?"
"The courtship period?" he said, pulling at half a dozen books at once. "Mother wants you over for dinner at least once a week."
"That is not happening. I am not getting mated to you. Any of you."
His grey eyes flared. "You say that because you haven’t been given the chance to get to know us. Those four stole you from us, and if they hadn’t, you would already be ours—"
"Not by choice!" I yelled, fury curling in my chest like a whip lash.
Bastian was instantly on the floor, a few inches away from my face. "You speak like they gave you a choice. What makes them so different from us other than the fucking missed opportunity? You don’t think we’ve been patient enough, knowing they’re fucking what belongs to us in every way that exists?"
"I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong to anyone. I am my own person and the fact that you don’t even see that is more than enough reason why I’ll never choose you—"
His hand circled my throat and I was lifted off my feet and slammed into a rack. The wood dug painfully into my back as I wheezed, kicking and slapping at his hand. It hurt so bad. He was crushing my bones like dust.
"You are a fucking brat," he spat in my face. "Which is unfortunate, because mother thinks you’re the only one capable of restoring us to what we used to be. Whatever that shit means. Either way, this is bigger than you. Than me. Than any of us. And if bonding with you is what gets mother what she wants, then bond we will. You don’t get to make choices when your life has never even belonged to you."
"I’d rather die than mate with you," I spat in his face.
He smiled coyly. "I’ve been told you said the same words to Black before the wedding. I guess you really must have a type."
I forgot about my throat and slapped him across the face.
He laughed, licking the inside of his cheek, and his grey eyes flicked down to my wrist where Quinlan’s mark sat.
And he grabbed it.
"Let me go!" I yelled, fighting hard to rip my hand out of his grip but he didn’t budge. He brought his mouth to my wrist, kissing the mark and sucked hard on my pulse.
Tears rose to my eyes as revulsion rolled in my stomach as he left a hickey on my skin.
And when he let me go, I slid down hard, and I must’ve triggered something because the grinding and clicking sound began again.
Bastian smiled cruelly. "We’re in luck, I see."
I barely had enough time to catch my bearings and grab the pile of books on the floor before we were shoved out of the secret chamber.
And we’d barely made it out of the library when Quinlan and Soren came storming inside.