Page 32 of Stolen
Even if there’s probably a talking book somewhere that’s going to bite me.
And even if Alaric looks like the kind of dangerous, carved from granite warrior who could absolutely savage my body without breaking a sweat.
Yes, please.
Don’t judge. It’s been a while.
And Alaric? He looks like he knows how tofindevery single one of my secret places and then, make me beg for more.
Okay, don’t look at me like that.
Blame the alien romance novels. Seriously, You read enough of these fantastictaken-by-the-alpha-overlord-in-spacestories and your standards shift.
But the thing that really has me spiraling isn’t what he could do to my body.
It’s what he’s already doing to my heart.
Because under the smirking, commanding, vaguely insufferable exterior, there’s something else.
A grief.
A weight.
Aneed.
Like the only thing more dangerous than being near him is being gone from him.
That scares me more than his magic ever could.
Because bodies heal.
But hearts? Hearts get ruined.
And if I’m not careful, mine’s going toshatterin the hands of a Demon who never meant to hold it.
“Wow,” I whisper as I find what I’ve undoubtedly been searching for in this incredible museum of a library.
There’s row upon row of shelves behind iron and glass doors.
“Therestricted section,” I murmur and grin to myself.
Okay, this part of the library gives silence new meaning.
I bite my lip, inching forward as I try to make out the shapes of the symbols or runes on some of the covers. These books are old. Like the ancient kindaold.
Mystical.
And the quiet that seems to shroud this area?
It’s the kind of quiet that only exists in churches or the woods just before something happens in a horror movie.
I squint and try to make out some of the words, but to do that I need to step closer.
Something pulses in the air.
“Shifting Realms,” I whisper, proud of myself for making that one out.
“The Ritual of the Zareth: Forging Soul Bonds in Nightfall,” I pause, wondering what that even means.
