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I waited until that evening, when the rest of the students were either eating or studying in their rooms, then headed off to the library. Inside, students sat along the tables, their heads buried in their textbooks. Over top of them was a glimmering veil of magic, a shield of silence. It kept the noise out if someone entered and exited the room, which served my purposes well. No one even knew I’d walked in.
The librarian, a squat little woman who I was pretty sure was more gnome than witch, sat at a large desk. She glanced up at me, but paid me no attention as I walked down the third aisle of the library shelves. The bookshelves rose up high toward the ceiling, far beyond anyone’s reach without magic.
I hurried through to the back and followed the instructions Howes had given me until I found the barren space at the back corner. Summoning my magic, I focused in to make sure that it wouldn’t shimmer or shine and draw anyone’s attention. As it surged from my fingertips, I tapped three times on the wall.
Without a sound, the wall shifted, forming into an old wooden door with a handle right in the center. Carefully, I reached out and grabbed the handle, twisting it to the right and opening up the door. I walked inside into the dusty room, finding an extension of the same library I had been in.
This section was incredibly sparse though. There were only five books lining the shelves, and they were all so large they looked almost too heavy to carry.
Closing the door behind me, I used my magic to lift one off the shelf, setting it carefully down on the small table in the middle of the room and flipping it open.
I didn’t have a ton of time, and I didn’t want to risk getting caught in this hidden room, so I began skimming through the books, looking for any information that I could. The first section gave a short history of Magic Blessed Academy, and my brows furrowed as I read.
The school is less than a hundred years old?
I wondered what those who acquired magic later in life had done before Magic Blessed Academy had formed.
The first sign of magic developing in a non-magical person occurred in 1931, the first line of the second chapter read. The next occurrence was less than a year later.
I furrowed my brow and looked around the library. That didn’t make any sense. Why would the gods have just recently started giving out new magic? Did it have something to do with the humans who had magic in their bloodlines? Were they losing it? Or was their power weakening?
I continued to skim through the books, but I couldn’t find the answer anywhere. But it was glaringly obvious that ordinary humans receiving magical gifts was a fairly new thing. That definitely wasn’t something the professors taught us in our history classes.
My fingers itched to grab another book and keep poring over the pages, but I had already been in this little room for a while. I needed to get back before anyone noticed I was missing.
Reluctantly, I put the books back on the shelf and carefully let myself out of the back room, watching the door as it disappeared into a blank wall like before. By the time I made it back to the library entrance, the whole place was nearly deserted.
I walked through the doorway and stopped short before I crashed into a broad, male chest.
Trace’s distinct scent tickled my nostrils, and I looked up to meet his gaze.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Looking for you.” His lips tilted in a grin, and my heart sped up a little.
We stared at each other for a moment, a familiar heat filling the air between us. Then he slid his hand down my arm and grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me to the right and into an empty study room. When the door was shut, he sent a flickering light to the center, bathing the room in soft light.
He tugged me into his arms, and I allowed myself to give in with no resistance. I wrapped my arms around him and lay my head against his chest, savoring the quiet before the storm. He held me tightly, and I could feel his heart beating against mine. I wasn’t used to holding a guy like this without expecting it to turn into sex—wasn’t used to the simple comfort of just being close to someone.
But I liked it.
I liked it so fucking much it terrified me.
Pulling back, Trace cupped my face in his hands and tilted my chin to meet my gaze. “You nervous?”
A low chuckle fell from my lips. “Fuck yeah.”
“Everything’s going to be okay, Ari. We’re going to get through this.” He pressed a kiss to my hair. “There is a lot against all of us, but we believe in what you’re looking for, and we believe in finding the truth. None of us would’ve stuck around this long if we didn’t. You are an extraordinary person.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I could take a punch like any good fighter, but I still sucked at taking compliments. “Thank you.”
The dark-haired rock star smiled and leaned down, kissing me softly on the lips. “I mean it, Snow. We’d follow you to hell and back.”
He meant it. I could hear the truth in his voice.
My arms tightened around him, my fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue between his lips to taste him. Trace responded instantly, our bodies attuned to each other in a way I still couldn’t quite believe. He met each stroke of my tongue with one of his own, angling his head as he walked me backward. We didn’t come up for air even when my ass bumped against the small table behind me.
What had started out sweet and comforting was quickly morphing into something much hotter. Much wetter. Much more demanding.
