Page 22 of Owned By Four Alphas

“Hello?” she called, peering into the dark aisles. The noise had come from somewhere towards the back, where the older tomes were kept safely tucked away with various enchantments to preserve them. Or, in some cases, protect the reader. “Is someone there?”

There was no response. She huffed, picking up one of the many candelabras that littered her workspace, careful to hold it far away from any of the old pages of the books. Castien had assured her that there was plenty of magic preventing anything so tawdry ascandle firefrom harming the books, but she was loath to test the theory.

She reached the tumbled books and knelt down, running a finger over the spines. She glanced around. There was nobody there.

She picked up the smallest, turning it over in her hand, unable to read the language embossed on the red leather. Some old Fae language, most likely. Placing it back on the shelf, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the books next to it. It was a row of faded green texts, volumes of the history of the First Realm, but the third was suspiciously free of the dust and wear of the others.

Biting her lip, she reached out and tugged on the volume. It only slid a couple of inches before there was a definitiveclickand a rush of dusty air as a hidden door creaked open a few shelves down.

“Woah,” she breathed, nudging the door further open with her foot. There was a long stone passageway, freezing cold and covered in cobwebs. Nibbling her lip and glancing back nervously, she arranged a few books to stop the door from swinging shut after her and made her way into the passage.

As she crept along, emboldened by curiosity and excitement, she tried to imagine where in the palace she was. The halls seemed to run alongside the library, but it wasn’t perfectly straight, and she had the sense she was walking downhill.

“Of course the Fae have secret tunnels,” she muttered to herself, careful to avoid the floating cobwebs. She only hoped she wouldn’t end up in some horrendous dungeon, or trapped in a dark hole meant to ensnare intruders. Kaelen would be furious. And worse, Elian would find it hilarious.

As a cool breeze blew past, her skin broke out into goosebumps, and a shudder ran down her spine. Perhaps she shouldn’t be poking about by herself. She would never admit it, but she found herself missing Kaelen’s steady, protective presence beside her.

She shook her head. This was Elian’s palace. She was queen of it. She would be just fine.

Moving at a snail’s pace, she eventually reached a tiny, rotting wooden door. Wrinkling her nose, she pushed it open, gasping at the room that lay beyond.

It was a treasure trove of artefacts, books, furniture, art,everything and anythingshe could think of. Rusting chandeliers swung from the ceiling above old chests overflowing with coins and crystals. Gilded frames hung on the walls, the paintings depicting glorious battles of the Fae. What was stranger, some of them seemed tomove. She would look away and back again, and a horse would be rearing, a sword raised, an enemy slain.

Books bound in thick brown hide seemed to whisper on the shelves, beckoning her closer, their jewel-encrusted spines winking at her. There were racks of weapons, old swords withcrumbling blades, ancient bows still strung, axes coated in dried blood. Death seemed to cloud them.

She tiptoed through the treasures, each more improbable than the last, the magic thick and choking. The only light was from the dim glow of her candelabra, the shadows growing longer and larger around her. Almost unnaturally so.

She stilled, her heart in her throat.

The shadows moved and swayed of their own accord.

“Malek? Is that you?” Her voice was high-pitched and trembling.

“Close, little dove,” a smooth voice breathed in her ear.

She shrieked and dropped the candelabra, but it was caught by Fae-quick hands before it could reach the floor.

“Easy there, darling,” Elian winked, “Malek isn’t the only one who can control shadows.”

“Elian!” She fought down the admittedly immature desire to stomp on his foot, her heart still racing. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief, “Strange as it might be, I’m looking for something. In the archives. That I happen to own. I think the real question, little dove, is whatyou’redoing here?”

She opened her mouth to protest but found she had no good retort, instead muttering, “I found a…secret passage. In the library. I was curious.”

“Of course you were,” said Elian, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “And what exactly were you hoping to find?”

“I don’t know!” She snatched the candelabra back from him, “Something to help with my research? On the Forest God? I’m at a bit of a loose end.”

Elian’s grin didn’t falter, but she could have sworn she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes/ “You don’t have to go sneaking about the place, you know. You could have come to me.”

“Could I?” She pretended to inspect the titles of the books, turning from him so he couldn’t see her face. “How do I know that anything you tell me is the truth, Elian?”

He was silent a while, his magic pulsing outwards, distressed. His footfalls echoed as he slowly walked towards her. She still didn’t look at him.

“Little dove, I…fuck… I don’t know.” His hands settled on her hips and her stupid omega brain purred at the touch, urging her to lean backwards into his heat, to accept his affection.

She ground her teeth together. “Is that it? You don’t know?”

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