Page 20 of Unraveled
“And yet, it’s the one you get. Next time, ask a better question.”
Finley chokes on a laugh and attempts to hide it with a cough. Not even the dull pain from my side can take this win away from me.
Two things I know for sure. First, the beast will not kill me... yet. He is healing me for some unknown reason. And second, he’s interested in me because I can use magic. Which means I’m one wrong answer away from leading him to what gave me that power. The grimoires and my amulet.
I need to find my necklace so I can escape before I accidentally tell him what we have in Penumbra. Plus, I have to warn Irene there’s a larger, smarter beast—one who might be a demon or even a fae—who knows what the scientists are doing.
Ash opens his lips to speak, and a guttural screech pierces the night, interrupting him. My blood turns to ice. I know that noise well. I’ve lived for years fearing the beasts that come to Penumbra every blood moon. Somewhere outside, the lunargyres are hunting.
A curse leaves Ash’s lips, and he’s already moving toward the door, finishing the amber liquid with one gulp.
His magic flares in a golden halo around his body as he pauses a moment before exiting. “See that she’s healed, Finley, or the lunargyres will swarm the castle by morning.”
Castle... So it’s true. We are in the old fae realm, and my life just got a lot more complicated.
Chapter 8
I’m left alonewith Finley, who cleans the wound in my torso with a gentleness I don’t expect from someone who works for a beast. My cheeks burn, and I clutch at what remains of my dress as he cuts through my corset with sharp shears, slicing through the boning like it’s butter.
“I’m sorry about this.” His expression turns apologetic. “I’m sure this is uncomfortable for you, but we don’t have a female healer in the castle.”
“I’m fine.” I’m not. “You healing me isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me tonight.”
I can barely breathe as he sutures my torn flesh, the pain making my toes curl back. I sweep my gaze around the room, trying to find something to distract me. Anything.
An enormous statue takes up most of a corner. A life-size female with dainty pointed ears protruding from waves of expertly sculpted hair. Her figure arches forward as if stuck in a dancer’s pose. Her slender arms extend to the ground, her hands hovering over the tile floor. Two massive white wings tilt down, framing her back and hiding her face.
I glance to Finley, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Now that Ash is gone, I can feel how ill I’ve become. Whatever spell the beast used to help me must work better if he’s near.
“That’s a fine cloak you’re wearing,” Finley says, and his magic hums through me, dulling some of the pain as he pushes the curved needle through layers of my skin once again.
I’ve lost count of how many stitches I have, but I know it’s more than fifteen. I blacked out for a moment before, and only recently woke again when he went through a particularly sore spot.
“Yes. But it’s not good for this weather.” I’m trying to remain awake. While Finley is helping me and doesn’t seem like he wants to take advantage of my condition, I can’t trust him.
“I noticed there’s an emblem embroidered on the back. What’s it for?”
“I won’t give you the answer the beast wants, Finley.”
He chuckles, shaking his head with an honest smile. “Am I that obvious?”
“Yes,” I say, but can’t help the small grin tugging at my lips.
His expression sharpens at my words, and then he inspects the red fabric draping over my legs and part of my torso. “So... in Penumbra, the librarians can use magic?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m guessing it’s the emblem of the library you work at. There are traces of a spell woven into the fabric of your cloak, likely to protect you from the weather—even if poorly so.”
My mouth falls open and my cheeks warm. “I put the spell on myself.” I sigh with resignation. “I could never master that one...”
Alarms are ringing inside my ears. I never expected this man to put everything together so fast. After all,librarianis not a synonym formagic user. Only in Penumbra do we use the power of the old scriptures.
“If you say so,” he says, but judging by his expression, he knows he hit a bullseye.
“Why are you helping the beast keep me here?”
Finley ties one last suture but remains quiet. I don’t think he’s going to say anything else.
