Page 104 of Into the Isle

Mimir Tomes was incredibly silent this time of night. No guards, no watchmen, no late-night readers. The library was evidently not a place to get your last-minute cram sessions in, because it didn’t stay open all hours of the day.

It gave me a feeling of confidence I probably shouldn’t have had. I walked faster, realizing no one was around. There might have been Huscarls watching the doors from the outside . . . but inside? I was free.

I longed to stop at the first set of bookshelves I passed to peruse the stacks. Begrudgingly, I resisted, and made my way up the stairs. It spiraled up to the second level, where more bookshelves and little rooms awaited.

I kept taking the staircase to the third level, and once I was there I stopped. A door awaited me—unlocked, once I pushed against it.

With my ear to the floor, I crept forward, crouching.

This room wasn’t much different than the rest—a vast chamber filled with shelves upon shelves of books—except at the front, near the door, was an empty counter and lobby. A small sign hung from the ceiling over the desk, which read “records room.”

I smiled, rubbed my hands together greedily, and waltzed into the huge chamber full of musty tomes and double-stacked bookshelves.

Oh my. I could get lost in here. A lifetime of reading wouldn’t get me through half the room, there were so many books. I felt daunted at even giving it a chance.

It’s time to get to work, I thought. Can’t stop now.

I glanced over at a window and saw the moon was still high in the sky. I had some time, though I wasn’t exactly sure how much. I took a step into the room—

And a shuffling sound made my boots freeze to the floor and my stomach skyrocket to my throat.

I hoped to Odin it was a mouse scurrying around.

Another soft rustling followed the first. It was nearby, and then joined by a low hum.

I wasn’t alone in the records room.

My hand instinctively went to my spear on my back. Fear inched up my spine, though it was overtaken by the need to act. I had a job to do, and no one was going to stop me. I desperately didn’t want to kill anyone right now . . . but I would, if necessary, to keep myself safe.

I pinpointed the sound. Rounded a few bookshelves, sliding my feet along to stay stealthy, just how Frida had told me I’d need to.

A gentle glow of candlelight pulsed beyond the next shelf, emanating from a small open reading area.

There was no way I was sneaking up on the person without announcing myself. I also knew I could move swiftly enough that it wouldn’t matter. My spear had length, I had speed, and whether the person knew I was there or not, that wouldn’t stop me from putting my spearhead against their throat.

Gritting my teeth and bracing myself, I spun out from behind a bookshelf and lunged silently into the clearing.

I pulled up short, leveling my spear.

A man stood over a table, back to me, flipping through pages. The candle on the table in front of him vaguely illuminated his frame. He was shirtless. Well-defined and muscled.

But it wasn’t his physique that gave me pause. It was the plethora of blue swirls and ink that filled his entire backside, shoulders, and the nape of his neck. A tattoo trailed down to his pants, disappearing into the waistband.

My eyes danced left, to a chair, and I noticed a black trench coat draped over the back of it.

I gawked.

“Hello, silvermoon.”

Magnus’ voice was quiet. With his back to me, he didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder to welcome me, as if he had sensed my presence.

I choked and stammered on my own spit. “H-How long did you know I was standing here?”

“Ever since you made an orgasmic moaning sound when passing under the ‘records room’ sign.”

I blushed. “I did not!”

His shoulders trembled as he chuckled to himself. Finally, he looked over his shouldere, and he appeared differently than I’d ever seen. His auburn hair, usually in a man-bun, was free and flowing down his shoulders. The candle illuminated his wavy mane crimson. He was more stacked than I remembered—apparently the trench coat hid a lot. He was still pale, but his gray eyes in the darkness glimmered with a soft shade of silver.

---