Chapter 183. Behind The Shelf I
Maisie
I stood on my toes at the very top rung of the ladder, one hand braced against the last shelf in against the stone wall, the other reaching for a dust-coated tome that continued to remain just out of reach.
The ladder wobbled.
So did I.
I hissed through my teeth and stretched a little farther, my fingers grazing the spine by a whisper before slipping uselessly away. Annoying, considering I had gained a few inches since my transition and should have been tall enough by now to stop being bullied by bookshelves.
I had been in the archives section of the library for more than an hour, losing myself in genealogy records that stretched back two thousand years. Old names. Old bloodlines. Fallen Lycan houses. Entire werewolf and human dynasties that got wiped out with time.
And the more books I consumed, the more baffled I became. It wasn’t that I couldn’t find a single thing about a bloodline named ’Thorne’. It was easy to dismiss that on the off chance that Dad had adopted a last name that hadn’t been real and Philip Gruer did have more than a few screws loose in his head.
It was that I began researching Lycan bloodlines and successions, trying to find a pattern to the succession that might help build a strong enough case against the Queen, enough to convince my mates to look once more into what happened decades ago.
But there were fewer books on Lycan history than there were on werewolf history, which wasn’t surprising. Lycans had always hoarded their history and secrets to themselves. But the few books I did find, most of which I had already read copies of in high school, none of the accounts were the same. It made little sense. There were different "first queens". There were even more varied accounts on who the first Lycan was. Or how they came about.
"...and the First Wolves and Lycans spread across the world..."
Another said:
"...the Moon Goddess gifted mankind wolves as protectors..."
Another said:
"...the Lycans, the Moon Goddess’s first children, descended from the Heavens..."
Another said:
"...and they made their way into our world by crossing the Silver Gate..."
The last one had done it for me. For an academy that had existed for several decades, built and was funded by the Lycans as another one of their generous displays of goodwill, the history section was seriously lacking and full of shit.
I reached once again for the last, dusty tome I hadn’t yet touched, and when I tried jumping the last few inches to breach the gap, I got rewarded with the ladder swerving right and knocking me right off.
A startled yelp tore from my throat as I pitched backward, stomach lurching with vertigo. The floor rushed up to meet me, but before I could crash, strong arms caught me mid-fall.
I landed against a broad chest, bridal-style, legs dangling, one of his hands braced under my thighs and the other supporting my back. Sterling grey eyes stared down at me, sharp and amused, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.
"Careful, little traitor," Bastian drawled, his tattoos stark and dangerous looking as he blocked out all the light overhead. "If you wanted my attention that badly, you could’ve just asked instead of throwing yourself at me. Though I’ve got to say..." His gaze flicked over my flushed face, lingering on my mouth. "This method has its perks."
Embarrassment and irritation heated my cheeks and I shoved at him. "Put me down, Bastian."
His arms didn’t budge. If anything, they tightened just enough to make the position feel intimate. The corner of his mouth curved into that infuriating half-smirk.
"Now why would I do a thing like that?" he murmured, tilting his head like he was genuinely considering the question. "You look good right here, where you have always belonged. In my arms. You know, most girls would be thanking me for the save instead of glaring and scowling. I suppose when we get mated, we will work on your manners."
I slammed the heel of my palm into his pretty nose. Or tried to. He ducked with a little laugh. "Someone’s in a terrible mood."
He lowered me to my feet and I brushed my skirt, only to shuffle back when he began walking me back into the book shelf. "What are you doing? Get away from me."
He didn’t. He ate into my space like he owned it, that dark energy sizzling around him. My heart slowed when I realized just how quiet the library was in this section. No one came this far out in this direction to read, which left me and Bastian alone.
His chest slammed against mine and his palm braced against the rack beside my head. His nostrils flared. "You have no idea how hard it’s been. Staying our hand while you walk about smelling like a bitch in heat. Your fecundity calls to us too, you know. Do you not think this even slightly unfair that you give yourself away to them so casually, making us salivate after you?" He sniffed. "What is it they’ve been feeding you over there? Are you pregnant?"
I pressed my hand against his chest to push him off. "What I am is none of your business. And I would step away if I were you. Mercer will be here any minute and if he finds you like this, I can’t say your head will still be attached to your neck when he’s done with you."
Bastian shifted, eyes uncertain. But then he cocked his head and grinned. "You’re bluffing. I know for a fact that your little mama’s boy and the brute have some business to attend to at the castle. The Prince is equally occupied with negotiations with our mother. Which leaves your blonde cupcake on babysitting duty today. And he’s out in the field, coaching the lacrosse team." His hand landed not too far from waist. "Which leaves us both all alone, sister."
Soren was negotiating with Margaret?
Bastian must’ve seen the surprise on my face because he smirked again. "I suppose he doesn’t tell you everything. Apparently, your lack of ’productivity’ has the Council pushing for a second wedding. Last I heard from our spies, it is in the talks to have the princes resume the fertility rites with other women Say Tessa Graham for example. Or have you continue as a breeder. Under proper supervision. More than half of the Council is onboard with it. It won’t be very long before you receive a royal decree."
Bastian chuckled. "You have to tell me exactly what you did to piss off that hag. I don’t think she’s ever had it out for anyone as badly as you."
My lips began quivering, my legs trembling. It became a little difficult to breathe.
She was backing us into a corner. Wasn’t being drugged every day enough? Why did she need to go through such lengths to tear us down and apart?
"Hey," Bastian suddenly said, but his voice felt far away.
I was hyperventilating.
A large hand cupped my cheek, forcing my head up to meet his gaze. "Breathe, Maisie. Fuck, I didn’t know you were this sensitive."
"Get off me," I said, pushing harder at him, but I was lacking strength and the adverse effects of the tonics was making it harder with every passing day to reach my Lycan. Or the bond. It felt like wading through thick, muddy water, and never reaching the surface.
Bastian took a step back and if I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought he looked worried about me.
I forced air back into my lungs, ignoring his intense stair, and when he was sure I had pulled myself together again, he made an amused sound. "Your emotions are all over the place." He reached up above my head to grab a book. "Here. Since you’re willing to break your neck over it."
I tipped my head back to see him pull the black tome off the shelf.
But the strangest thing happened.
The book pulled down like a lever. And the ground beneath our feet groaned.
Our gazes met as a grinding noise filled the library, and then, without warning, the shelf... for the lack of a better world, swiveled in a perfect circle.
And because we were both leaning directly against it, the wood slammed into us both, shoving us into the waiting blackness on the other side of the shelf.