Page 70 of Crownless Heirs

She stiffened under his stare.

Conall stepped closer. “You saw the book?”

Sorcha nodded. “And it gave you something.”

“Yes,” she said.

A figure moved behind Conall, quiet, but far too large to be missed.

He wore a heavy cloak, fur dark as onyx and thick across the shoulders of a man built like a statue. He was tall, taller than Conall and older with bronzed skin. His dark hair was bound into a low twist, braided in places with strips of hide. And his eyes, they were the color of lilac at full bloom.

He stepped up behind Conall. “We felt the disruption when the book awakened.” The man spoke as he looked toward Sorcha.

“We’ve been here, watching from the shadows. You passed us in the dark and we waited to see what you would do.” He turned to face the heart of the room. Behind him, more shapes stirred.

They stepped from the alcoves, between shelves, and out of the shadowed arches. Some were men, others wolves. Some in half shift, their eyes glowing faintly in the flickering light. There was easily twenty, most likely more than that, she watched more eyes flicker in the shadows. Each face turned toward Sorcha. The man turned his gaze to Sorcha.

“We gave our allegiance to the Veil when it entrusted us with the book. We have remained here ever since, guarding it.” He paused. “My name is Killian.”

“And now that the book has chosen you, we will protect you too.” His gaze sweeping over each of them.

“You are safe inside these walls. No harm will come to you. In the morning, we will open the tunnels so you can leave safely.”

Conall turned toward Kyron, a familiar look in his eye. “I need to go,” he said, voice low. “Now that I know you’re safe.”

Kyron nodded and pulled him into a tight hug. Conall held him hard for a breath, then stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it like a big brother would. “Stay alive, would you?”

He looked at Maelan next. “Remember to keep him safe.” Maelan gave a quiet, serious nod.

Then Conall walked to Sorcha. He said nothing at first, then he leaned in close. “Protect his heart,” he whispered.

He took her hand, then turned and walked away without looking back.

The Ossory held still around them, eyes quietly resting on Sorcha. She took a breath. “I have so many questions.”

Killian nodded. “I know but we don’t the time.”

He held her stare, the Firelight dancing in his lilac eyes.

A cold chill caressed Sorcha’s body, raising the hairs on her skin. Sleep still heavy on her limbs, she ran her hands over her eyes and turned to find Kyron and Maelan fast asleep beside her. Their shapes forming a quiet semicircle around the marble hearth. The roaring fire from the night before was nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes.

Hugging herself, she rubbed her arms for warmth as she stood. Morning light now spilled through the high skylights, casting long, bright beams that cut through the shadows and illuminated the dust-laced floor. The air inside the grand dome was perfectly still; the terrifying screams and screeches that had haunted the city streets just hours ago had finally faded into a heavy silence.

Moving quickly, she gathered a few leftover supplies from the surrounding room, a coil of rope abandoned in the corner, an empty metal canister, and a handful of books on herbal remedies. She packed them carefully into her bag alongside the Book of the Veil. Keeping her movements quiet as not to disturb the resting Ossory warriors in the alcoves, she crouched beside the boys and gently shook them awake.

“It’s time to go,” she whispered.

The two stirred one after the other, stretching their limbs and letting out low groans as the fog of sleep cleared. From a shadowed corner of the room, Killian appeared and waved them over. “This way,” he directed, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

At his command, the library responded. The wall began to creak, its ancient bricks and stones shaking loose and grinding together as a hidden passage ground open. Sorcha smiled gently, trailing her fingers along the shifting surface one last time before following behind the Ossory leader.

Torches flared to life sequentially along the corridor walls, guiding their steps through the dark until a sudden blinding sunlight hit them.

Before they could step out into the open air, Killian stopped and placed a hand over Sorcha’s. As he spoke a soft incantation, a swirl of tourmaline like glitter spiraled around her skin. A sharp, sudden burn flared against her hand and then vanished just as quickly. When Killian pulled his hand away, a fresh rune was stamped into her flesh.

“Cast this rune and it will call us to you,” he smiled softly and nodded.

Sorcha examined the beautiful mark, it was a delicate swirl curling inward into the shape of a fang. “Thank you, Killian.”