Page 45 of Unraveled
“What does that mean?”
When I open my eyes, Ash is pinning me to the ground with his significant weight. Our faces are close—too close—and my thoughts clear instantly. I feel the quickness of his breath against my skin, and his scent is exhilarating.
The brightness of the revealing spell fades slowly, and the room returns to darkness. He eases his body off me and gets to his feet.
“I-I guess the training is officially over,” I whisper. My heart is still beating so fast. I gather my strength to get up, but my arms feel heavy.
Ash snaps his fingers, and light flickers on in every candelabra and lamp around us.
I swallow thickly. “I found you. Does that mean I won?”
He looks anything but pleased when he gestures to me where I still lie on the floor. “I literally took you down. I asked you to focus on the trace of magic I leave behind, not to use enchantments you don’t understand.”
“I tried, but I felt nothing.” I’m fed up with feeling like a failure everywhere I go. Like I disappoint everyone that matters. Irene, my father—him. Too many emotions swirl inside me, and my head threatens to split open with the migraine that follows.
“Did you?” he asks. “Or did you give up trying because you thought you couldn’t do it?”
I wince and fight the urge to shield myself from his scrutiny.
Ash sighs, making his way back to the double doors we came in through. “I hoped my assessment of your nature wasn’t correct, and you wouldn’t be irresponsible enough to do something so idiotic.”
I frown and follow him. “So was this a test to get me to perform a forbidden spell, like I did the night we met?”
“The spell isn’t forbidden. When used properly, it reveals hidden items. Even if they are spelled to remain so or the room is dark. But you are an untrained human, and using fae magic like that could kill you.”
I fight the need to hug my body to warm myself against the chill crawling over me, the shame of being the way I am. Irene has been telling me I’ve become impulsive, but I always told myself I was doing it for her. To protect her. But I never intended to cause harm to others, like almost killing Ash, much less myself.
The spell left me drained.
“You don’t know what kind of magic you learned, what enchantments you’re unleashing upon others. It’s the first rule of spell casting, Monster, to never use magic you don’t understand. Your precious librarians should’ve taught you that.”
I want to defend myself. He’s no one to tell me what to do or how I should’ve been taught magic. But I was never taught these. I stole moments with forbidden books and somehow, against all odds, I learned.
We weren’t allowed to use this sort of power, and I’m not sure people like Harper even could. One librarian wasn’t dangerous. We did parlor tricks, like Skylar so gracefully pointed out. But I craved more. I wanted to make a difference and learn the truth.
Shame weighs me down as we leave the dark room. I missed the chance to learn something new, like detecting magic waves, when I defaulted to old habits.
“Where are we going?” I ask Ash as we head a different direction from where we came.
“The library. There’s something I need you to do.”
Chapter 17
My heart might leapout of my chest at any moment as I take in a magical library that could rival the one in Penumbra. Rich, dark green bookcases extend up three stories high. There must be hundreds of thousands of books in here. So many tomes bound with leather I wouldn’t be able to read them in my lifetime. And their scent is like coming home.
I step into the room, twirling around, my arms clasped against my chest. My cheeks hurt as I smile and take everything in.
“What do you think?” I hear Ash beside me, and I nod, taking in the beautiful landscape painted on the ceiling.
“It’s breathtaking.”
These grimoires are all magical, like the ones forbidden back home. I feel it deep within my bones as their aged parchment sings to me.
“How did you realize you were missing grimoires when you have this many?” I ask, and the moment I meet his gaze, I realize he’s staring at me with an emotion I can’t place. Or perhaps I’m too scared to do so.
Longing—desire?
His gold eyes have turned near black by the time he shifts them away from me.
