Page 33 of Tempest Awakening

Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and a heart that couldn't seem to settle. I leaned against the bookshelf, my legs suddenly weak. The rough texture of the ancient tomes pressed against my back, grounding me in reality.

Mason was here. Mason was a Supe. Mason was... gorgeous.

What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

I don't know how long I stood there, leaning against the bookshelf. The library bustled around me, the soft rustle of turning pages and hushed whispers a stark contrast to the turmoil in my mind.

A vivid memory surfaced—we were eight years old, climbing the big oak tree in my backyard. I had slipped, scraping my knee badly on the rough bark. Mason, without hesitation, had climbed down to help me. In his rush to reach me, he'd cut his arm on a broken branch, a nasty gash that should have needed stitches.

I remember being more worried about his injury than my own, but Mason had just smiled that gap-toothed grin of his and said, "Don't worry, Tess. I'm tough, remember?"

The next day, when we met to play, his arm had been completely healed, not even a scar left behind. I'd been amazed, calling him my "superhero friend." If only I'd known how close to the truth that was.

Why hadn't he told me? We'd been inseparable as kids, sharing every secret. Or so I'd thought. A pang of hurt mixed with the confusion swirling in my chest.

I pushed off from the bookshelf, forcing myself to move. I had work to do, a new job to prove myself in. I couldn't afford to spend the day lost in childhood memories.

But my mind kept drifting.

What did it mean to be a gargoyle-shifter? I'd read about them, after the Unveiling, when I'd given myself a crash course on all things supernatural. Stone-like skin, wings, enhanced strength.

But reading about it and knowing your childhood best friend was one were two very different things. I felt a twinge of insecurity. How could I, a mere human, fit into this world of mythical beings?

And that scar... what had happened to him in the years we'd been apart? The Mason I knew had been so gentle, always the first to help a hurt animal or stand up to bullies. Now he looked like he'd been through a war.

I was so lost in thought I nearly jumped out of my skin when a deep voice behind me said, "Tess?"

I whirled around, my heart pounding, to find Mason standing there. The afternoon sun streaming through the high windows cast a golden glow around him, making him look almost otherworldly.

"Mason. You're here," I breathed, drinking in the sight of him. It still didn't feel real. "You're back."

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I said I would be."

An awkward silence fell between us, twenty years of distance suddenly feeling like an insurmountable chasm. The air between us crackled with unasked questions and unspoken truths.

"So," I said, desperately grasping for something to say. "Gargoyle-shifter, huh?"

Mason's smile widened slightly, revealing a hint of the boy I once knew. "Yeah. Surprise?"

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension breaking. "That's one way to put it. I have so many questions, I don't even know where to start."

"Well," Mason said, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture so familiar it made my heart ache, "I actually do need help with some research. Maybe we could talk while you show me around?"

I nodded eagerly, grateful for the excuse to spend more time with him. "Of course. What are you researching?"

Mason's expression turned serious. "It's for my Supernatural Studies class. We're studying the Ancient War and its impact on supernatural-human relations."

My eyebrows shot up. "The Ancient War? I've only heard whispers about that since I started here."

He nodded. "It was a secret war between dragons and a group called The Harbingers. We need to construct a detailed timeline and identify lessons for the present day."

I felt a thrill of excitement, tinged with a hint of trepidation. This was exactly the kind of deep, hidden history I'd hoped to uncover when I took this job. But could I, as a human, truly understand the complexities of supernatural conflicts?

"That sounds fascinating. And challenging," I said, pushing aside my doubts. "Where do you want to start?"

As we navigated through the towering shelves, I couldn't help but steal glances at Mason. His movements were purposeful, almost predatory, a far cry from the carefree boy I once knew. Yet, there was a gentleness in how he handled the books, a reminder of the friend I remembered.

"So," I ventured, unable to contain my curiosity any longer, "what have you been up to all these years?"

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