Heir of Broken Fate: Chapter 22

I exit my bedroom wearing fighting leathers to find Hazel has on the same clothes from dinner, anxiously wringing her hands as she stands in the middle of her door’s threshold.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” I say softly.

Hazel’s body deflates, the tension visibly leaving her body. “I think I’ll stay here and go through more books.”

Knox’s bedroom door opens, his large frame filling the hall as he stalks toward us, wearing his own fighting leathers. “That would be a great help,” he says kindly.

Hazel steps forward, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Please be careful,” she whispers in my ear.

“I promise.”

Stepping out of the embrace Hazel turns to Knox, her eyes hardening. “You may be a king but if you let anything happen to her, I’ll kill you myself.”

My eyes widen in shock. I bite my lip, trying to hold back my laughter at this tiny, delicate creature threatening a six-foot-five beast of a Fae.

Knox has the faintest smile on his lips. “I’ll look after her.”

Hazel searches his eyes for a moment before nodding. “Good.” Stepping back, she leaves in the direction of Knox’s study. “Don’t wake me when you return,” she calls over her shoulder.

Knox and I stand in silence for a moment. I turn to make a joke when Knox spins on his heel. “Don’t even start,” he growls, marching down the stairs.

I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me.

Still giggling over the image of Hazel scolding Knox, I join him in the foyer to find his own lips twitching.

“Can we teleport?”

He smirks, turning toward the back garden. “Unfortunately, there’s wards placed over the libraries against teleporting, so we’ll have to fly.” He stops on the grass and slides his hands into his pockets. “Will that be an issue for you?”

“No,” I blurt. “Whenever you’re ready,” I say, flailing my hand between us.

I hold in my sigh as Knox’s large, iridescent black wings flutter open.

I wasn’t paying attention the last time he flew; I didn’t get to explore his wings. They’re magnificent. I have the urge to run my fingers down them when I remember what Hazel said about wing touching to be intimate.

I swallow my suddenly dry throat. Pulling my eyes away from his majestic wings to his face, my gaze snags on his pulse, thumping rapidly at the side of his neck.

“As you wish,” he croons.

Taking a step forward, he lays his palm on my back, sliding it around my shoulder blades before he bends, cupping my legs as he hauls me to his chest. I refuse to look at him as my heart goes haywire with the close proximity. I can feel every single muscle in his chest, my body turning to liquid against the rock-hard warmth.

Why does he have to be attractive? Why can’t he look like a toad?

Knox clears his throat, his voice deeper than usual. “Ready?”

“Mhmm,” I hum, my voice failing me.

Knox pushes off, flying into the night sky. He flies faster than Hazel and somehow smoother. The air still rips through my hair, yet I feel steady, calm in his arms. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my cheeks. Tilting my head back, I look up at the night sky as we soar over Azalea, letting the stars and the moon sing to a part of my soul.

After flying for what feels like hours, Knox lands gracefully in the dense woods, setting me down before he hastily takes a step away from me. I’m about to thank him for flying when I notice his body is stiff, jaw clenched and face cold.

Before I can voice my question, Knox turns away. “Follow me.”

I ignore his shitty mood as I make sure my protection and mental shields are raised as we walk through the mountaintop woods. Going undetected, we tread through non-traveled paths, avoiding twigs and branches as they try to dig and cut into my skin.

I’m wondering if I should voice the question about poison ivy when I slam into Knox’s back, an oomph flying out of me as Knox throws his arms behind him, catching me with effortless precision.

Does he have eyes in the back of his head?

“What do you see, Delilah?” he asks, deadly calm.

Moving around his large frame I come to stand beside him, frowning when I do. “A rundown dome building, why?”

“I see absolutely nothing but woods.”

I place a palm over my chest, finding my pendant pulsing with warmth. “It’s veiled. Who would veil it? I thought you said it was abandoned.”

“It should be abandoned. It hasn’t been mentioned in any court meetings,” he mutters. “Give me the pendant.” He holds out his hand.

“Absolutely not,” I snap.

Knox rolls his eyes. “I’m not arguing with you on this. We don’t know who veiled it or if there’s someone in there. If something attacks you, I can’t go in and help.”

I shrug. “Sucks for you then,” I say, walking off.

I don’t trust him, not with this information. This could all be an elaborate ploy to get the information for himself. For all I know, he could have veiled it himself. I wouldn’t put it past a king.

A dark shadowed hand wraps around my own, yanking me back.

“Delilah.”

I snap my head to Knox, my canines flaring as I growl, “Let go of me.”

“You’re not going in there alone.”

“You’re not in charge of me. You’re not my king,” I sneer.

I have free will. I have freedom.

I will never be somebody’s puppet again.

Knox’s eyes roam my face, searching my eyes. A moment later the shadowed hand drops. “Can you keep your mental shield open? So I can see for myself?” he asks coolly, placing his hands in his pocket as he leans against a tree.

“Fine,” I snap, leaving him in the woods.

The further I walk, the more my irritation morphs into trepidation as the building looms before me. It’s several stories high, with cracked and missing glass panels lining the outskirts of the dome building. My boots thump on the brick walkway that curves around an overgrown garden before the building. I think back to that first day in Hazel’s garden, when the otherworldly beast flew above us. I had been so terrified I cloaked myself. I let the steps become a drum, calming my heartbeat as I dive deeper within myself. Picturing my very molecules distorting, transforming my being until I’m nothing. Walking up the cracked steps to the building’s entryway, I cloak myself, going wholly invisible.

Magic slithers around me, probing my physical shields.

Not bothering to turn around, I roll my eyes. I did it on purpose, Knox.

Reading my mind, the energy retracts. I could have sworn I even felt it sigh in relief.

Ascending the final cobbled steps, dirt and debris crack beneath my leather boots. Pushing open the large arched wooden doors, they creak in response. I pause on the threshold, opening my senses to listen for any sound of movement. When nothing scuttles, scratches, or hisses, I continue inside.

The inside of the library was crafted into a spiral, the halls curving around one another. Peering over the railing, the levels of the library continue down until the shadows swallow it whole, the bottom shrouded in complete darkness. Down the curved walkway, I pass endless bookcases strewn about. Some broken, smashed, or fallen on their side, but all of them empty. There’s no books on the first story, and as I descend level after level, I find it completely empty safe for the bookcases and dusty study rooms.

Eleven stories of forgotten wood.

It isn’t until I return to the main level about to leave that I pause. All these old buildings have basement levels, like my family’s vault.

I search for any hidden staircases, checking behind desks, picking up fallen bookcases, and even knocking on walls to see if there’s a hidden entry point, yet I find nothing. Dejected, I walk back to the main doors. Passing through cracked archways and old study rooms, I stroll through the main reception area where a large oval-shaped desk sits. This must have been where the priestesses had people check in.

My curiosity piques, and I round the desk, inspecting the old books filled with names on the desk top. I start reading through the books, moving slowly down the length of the desk, when the floorboard beneath my feet creaks. I jump, shuffling my feet on and off the floorboard. Bending, I lift the dusty checkered rug that covers the hardwood floor to find a small, circular knob and the outline of a square.

Pulling the silver knob with all my strength, it lifts with a loud creak. Dust fills the air around me, making me cough as I wave my hand, trying to get the dust to settle. It reveals a small set of wooden stairs.

The stairs creak and hiss, bending beneath the weight of my body as I descend the old rickety boards. The space is utterly pitch black. Holding out my hand in front of me, I set flames alight on my fingertips. Still being invisible, all anyone would see is five separate flames glowing in the dark.

I lift my head from the flames before me, only to stumble backward.

The walls are covered in ancient drawings, runes and pictures etched into every inch and crevice of the stone hall. No space has been left free or untouched. I walk the short corridor looking at every single image on the wall, making sure Knox sees everything. Images of a human skull dripping with blood, stick figures with elongated ears fighting against a nameless, faceless shadow. Oval mirrors and severed wings scatter the walls. Large oak trees, the trunks spinning around themselves until they flourish, spreading branches far and wide. Buildings being built and ruined are surrounded by scattered bodies indicating the dead. The etchings stop completely once I reach the end of the hallway, a lone bookcase sits against the wall, the small three-level shelf full of books.

The moment I lay eyes on the bookcase, the energy in the room shifts, making the temperature drop drastically. The books feel wrong, beckoning my name, and yet their essence screams for me to run and hide.

I give myself no time to think. Snatching as many as I can, I dump them all in the large brown sack Knox gave me earlier, filling it to the brim with every last book from the shelf. The more books I take the colder the room gets, and by the time the last book is off the shelf, my breath clouds in front of me.

Swinging the sack over my shoulder, I run as fast as I can, no longer wanting to be anywhere near this secret corridor alone. The energy feels disturbed, as if something awoke and knows I’m taking what doesn’t belong to me.

Running down the cobbled path, I see Knox by the nearest tree pacing.

It feels as if someone’s watching me, their eyes searing into my back. I open my mouth to tell Knox exactly that when a deadly roar erupts around us.

Knox twists his face to me, his eyes wide in horror.

Before I can blink, I’m in his arms, the sack of books in his hands as he flies above the woods in a zig-zag motion.

“What was that?” I whisper.

“I have no idea and I don’t want to find out,” he breathes.

He tightens his hold on me, flying faster as another roar pierces the sky and the mountain below.

“Did you feel it too?” I ask quietly, as if whatever awoke in the library can still hear me.

Knox’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Yes.”

White light encompasses us midair. Tightening my hold around Knox’s neck, I hold on for dear life as Knox teleports and flies, jumping between space and time within the Fae lands. What would have been several hours’ worth of flying turns into only half an hour. I’d question Knox on why he forced me to be in his arms while he flew for hours to the library, yet by the stiffness in his body, I think better of it.

Landing in Knox’s back garden, I can’t shake the feeling of wrongness that emanates from the books as he sets it down between our feet. “I don’t think we should leave them in the study.”

“I don’t either.” Sighing, Knox picks up the sack again, making my magic retract. Knox shivers. “I’ll put it in the backyard cellar. Whatever residual magic is clinging to the books is horrid.”

I take a step away. “I need to bathe and wash off whatever it is. It feels like it’s crawling all over my skin.”

Knox’s eyes snap to mine, concern flashing in them. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, it just feels…wrong. I want to wash it off.”

“I’ll place a concealment spell around them. No magic can get out of the room,” he says, carrying the sack further into the garden.

I stand there watching him until he disappears around the side of the house before I head inside. Walking into my bathing suite, I’ve never felt more grateful for a bath.