Page 62 of Heir of Blood and Moonlight

I made a beeline for that door. The trio of sigils glowed brighter as I approached, then faded, leaving behind sear marks on the wood as they released the lock. That was a different type of locking ward. I leaned closer to the door, studying the spent sigils. Parts of the pattern reminded me of the bonding sigil I marked each of my immortals with when I claimed them, almost like this lock had been designed specifically for me, to automatically unlock in my presence. Had my mom done this?

Unlike in the sitting room, the furniture and shelves in the study were exposed. Open books and loose papers were strewn haphazardly across the desk, covered in a thick layer of dust. Every inch of wall was taken up by built-in bookcases, save for the opposite wall, which displayed a broad picture window overlooking the misty grounds, and the door in the center of the wall to my right, which led to the High Queen’s bedroom.

Not wanting to waste time, I turned to the left and skimmed the titles on the spines of the books on the shelves.

“Sophie?”

I spun around to find Gavin standing in the open doorway. I had been so preoccupied by my mission that I hadn’t sensed himfollowing me. He wore his trousers and a button-down shirt as usual, though the top few buttons of his shirt were undone and his usually sleek hair was slightly mussed, falling forward down his forehead, making him appear less put together than usual.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, scanning the room as he stepped across the threshold. My anger from earlier flared, but he diffused it with a single statement. “No one’s set foot in this room since the attack.”

The attack. Memories of that night flashed through my mind. Horrifying flickers. Nightmare fuel.

I cleared my throat and licked my lips, grabbing onto a safer topic. “Really?” I asked, recalling the strange triple sigil that had burned itself into the door as it released the lock.

“We tried everything to get in here, even breaking through the wall and climbing in through the window, but it was no use,” Gavin said as he crossed to the desk, skimming over the books and papers abandoned there. “Apparently, your mother set the ward sealing this room herself.” He turned toward me, his silver eyes glowing brighter than the dim predawn light. “It was her last act as High Queen.” He glanced at the doorway, his stare growing distant, like he was seeing the space at another time.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said. “I just walked toward the door, and the ward burned itself out.”

“It was waiting for you,” Gavin said, dragging his attention back to me. “Why did you come here?” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m assuming it wasn’t for a walk down memory lane.”

I shook my head and scanned the shelves stretching around the room. “I had a dream, a prophetic dream,” I said. “It was confusing, and I was hoping to find some guidance in here.”

“From the books?” Gavin asked. “Or from your mother?”

“All the above?” I said, sounding uncertain. My brow furrowed. “But there are no ghosts in here.”

Gavin’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Give them time. Your mother’s ward likely repelled them, and there may be some lingering residue that keeps them away for some time. They’ll find their way here eventually, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Your mother isn’t likely to be among them.”

Right, because Veris had burned her body and scattered the ashes, leaving her no physical anchor in this place. I thought of Wes downstairs in the infirmary, watching over Micah. He didn’t have an anchor here either. I touched the silver Tree of Life medallion. Wes had given it to me shortly after we discovered I was pregnant. It had been his mom’s, the only thing he had of hers, and was a promise that he would never leave me—that we would be a family. This pendant was what had convinced me to keep the baby. Of course, in the end, Wes hadn’t been able to keep his promise. Maybe he had latched onto the pendant instead of his body? Or maybe he had latched ontome?

The old, bitter memories made my eyes sting with fresh tears. I cleared my throat, pushing the heartbreak away. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to rely on the books, then,” I told Gavin as I looked around the study. “Any idea of where to find books on interpreting prophetic dreams?”

Thethudof a book landing on the hardwood floor drew our attention to the wall on the left.

Cautiously, I approached the book, cocking my head to the side as I crouched to study the worn cover. There was no title stamped into the crimson leather. I reached for the book, turning it over in my hands. The spine was blank as well, and the binding creaked as I opened the book. The first page was blank, but a single word had been written on the second in neat calligraphy, with tidy, precise flourishes:Prophecy.

My eyebrows rose, and I looked at Gavin, tilting the open book toward him so he could see the lone word as well. “Looks like at least one ghost has found its way here already.”

“So it would seem,” he said, frowning thoughtfully. He crossed the study, joining me, his eyes skimming over the spines on the nearby shelves, where theProphecybook had been tucked away a moment ago. “These books all relate to a queen’s prophetic gifts.”

I nodded, grinning. I was eager to search for some clarity. “Should I look at any others?” I asked the air around us, unsure of the ghost’s location.

Goosebumps rose on my skin, and a noticeable chill entered the air. My next exhale came out as a visible puff of air. A moment later, three more books slid out partway from where they had been shelved.

“Thank you,” I whispered, shivering reflexively. The air warmed noticeably, making me think the ghost had moved away again. Gavin collected the books from the shelves, but I continued to scan the surrounding air, searching for some visible sign of the spirit. “Who are you?” I asked softly. “Can you show yourself?”

A glittering mist formed a half-dozen feet away, and my heartbeat quickened. But instead of coalescing into a humanoid form as Wes had done, the mist lingered for a few seconds before dissipating.

“The residual repellent from the ward must prevent the ghost from manifesting completely,” Gavin said. “We’re lucky she could focus her strength enough to show us the books.”

“She?” I said, looking at him under raised brows.

Gavin nodded, peering around like he just couldn’t help himself from looking for our friendly ghost, either. “Only a queen would know what to look for in here.”

I shrugged one shoulder and looked past him. “Thank you, whoever you are.”

Gavin started toward the doorway, and I followed. We carried our small book haul back to his quarters in the west wing, whereI settled at the compact dining table to do some much needed research while Gavin filled an electric kettle and plugged it in on the sideboard.

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