Page 16 of Shadowed Fate

"Grimstone's full of surprises, Brigid. Best to keep your wits about you."

As we continue down the corridor, the shadows seem to move of their own accord, and I swear I hear whispers just beyond the edge of hearing.

"Why do I get the feeling that this place is alive or something?"

He turns to me. "Now that's the real question, isn't it?” And I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

We reach a grand staircase, its steps worn smooth by centuries of feet. As I place my foot on the first step, I feel a subtle shift beneath me. My heart leaps into my throat. I take another step, and this time the stair definitely moves, like it’s a pendulum. "Is this safe?"

"Mostly," Rory says, chuckling at my wide-eyed expression. "Just don't think about falling."

Of course, now that's all I can think about. My knuckles turn white on the railing.

"So, the building itself is magical, too?" I ask, trying to distract myself as we ascend.

Rory nods, his shaggy blond hair bouncing. "It's alive in its own way. Grimstone is kind of like a space between the ordinary world and the supernatural world. It’s a little bit of both.

I stumble slightly, catching myself on the railing. “Supernatural—like ghosts and stuff?"

Rory's laugh echoes through the stairwell. "Oh, much more than that. Take me, for example. I'm an Irish werewolf."

I blink, sure I've misheard. "You're a... what?"

"Werewolf," he repeats, grinning to reveal teeth that suddenly look a bit sharper. "Irish variety. We're a bit different from your standard Hollywood werewolves."

Um…werewolves are real?And there are different types?I open my mouth, but no words come out.

"What about Lochan and Callen?" I ask, finding my voice at last. "Are they...werewolves too?" It’s like my brain can’t believe is actually coming out of my mouth.

Rory shakes his head. "Nah, they're plain old fae. Well, Lochan is. His family are fae warriors. Callen, or his royal highness, is a prince of the high fae, actually. They grew up together."

My head spins. Fae? Like fairies? But Lochan and Callen are so...uh, alpha male. Nothing like the Tinkerbell-esque things you picture when you hear the word fairy.

“Oh and don’t call them fairies. That’s a big thing for them.” I want to ask why, but Rory keeps moving. "This way," Rory says, guiding me down another corridor. "I want to show you the library."

We step through big oak doors, and I gasp. The library is enormous, its ceiling stretching impossibly high, bookshelves reaching up into shadowy heights. The scent of old paper and leather fills my nose.Oh my god, Fiona just would die.

"Do you like to read?" Rory asks, watching me drink in the sight.

I nod, then hesitate. "Yeah, but...maybe not the kind of books you have here."

"Oh?" Rory raises an eyebrow. "What kind do you like? We have just about everything here."

Heat rises to my cheeks as I think of the gargoyle smut I just finished the other day. "Um...just... regular stuff."

Rory's grin widens, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Ah, I see."

I want to disappear into the floor. How did he know? Can werewolves read minds?

"Don't worry," Rory says, still grinning. "Your secret's safe with me. Though I’m sure we can find something to make those pretty cheeks turn red."

I dare a glance up at him and he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

Rory leads me out of the library and down another winding corridor. My head's spinning, trying to keep track of all the twists and turns. We emerge into the night, and I blink, momentarily confused by the bright light.

"Welcome to the training grounds," Rory announces with a sweeping gesture.

My jaw drops. The space before us is massive, easily the size of several football fields. Students are scattered across it, engaged in... magic? The grounds are lit up by an enormous glowing orb high above, like a mini version of the sun.

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