Page 103 of The Alien in the Archive

I get to work grabbing all the essentials: a few fresh sets of clothes, the birth control meds I picked up when I got pregnancy tests from the hospital, my most essential books. I add the books Thalara sent me to the set, hoping she turned up something useful. I head to the kitchen to get some snacks, and?—

I hear a thud.

I turn slowly, terrified that someone has come in without being invited…but it's just a fallen book.

I cock my head in confusion and take a step toward it.

The book moves again.

The book skids an inch across the floor, as if caught in an invisible breeze. I freeze, my pulse hammering in my ears. I glance around the room, half-expecting to see someone—or something—but the cottage is empty. Silent.

It’s just me.

And the book.

I take another cautious step forward, my eyes locked on the leather-bound cover.

“What…are you?” I whisper.

As if there’s something in the house.

The book moves again, this time lifting slightly off the ground. My breath catches. Without thinking, I reach out with my mind, the way I do with Thorne when I touch his thoughts.

The book jerks toward me.

I yelp and stumble back, colliding with the table behind me. The book hovers in midair for a moment, trembling, before it slowly drifts to rest on the table. My heart is racing, my skin cold with fear.

This isn’t random.

It’s me.

I reach out again, this time consciously, focusing on the book. It quivers, then flips open, its pages fluttering as if caught in a breeze. My fingers tighten on the edge of the table, my thoughts spinning.

Is this…is this what happened in the Archive?

I think back to the first time I met Thorne—missing books on shelves, a trail of breadcrumbs to Thorne’s alcove. It was all so convenient, and I was so distracted by my discovery that I didn’t even question it.

But it’s all becoming clear to me.

It wasn’t the books. It was us.

Or…me.

I take a shaky step back, my eyes darting to the other books scattered around the cottage. As if on cue, they begin to move. One by one, they rise into the air, their spines straightening as if they’re standing at attention. I can’t stop it—I’m not even trying. It’s like my subconscious is reaching out, pulling them toward me.

“Chill, guys,” I whisper, as if that’s going to do a damn thing.

The bond with Thorne flickers, faint but steady, like a pulse at the back of my mind. It feels stronger now, more vibrant; a thread connecting us across the distance, no matter how far. I can sense him in the archive, absorbed in his work, completely unaware of what’s happening here.

Or maybe he does know—maybe he can feel it, too.

I sink into the nearest chair, my head spinning as thebooks slowly rotate in mid-air. My powers have always been unpredictable, but this…this is something else. It’s like they’ve been amplified, intensified by my connection to Thorne.

The realization hits me like a tidal wave, overwhelming and undeniable. It feels ridiculous now, that I could’ve failed to see it…but it’s all falling into place now.

He’s not just my partner, my lover, my friend.

He’s my mate.

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