Page 63 of Dark Moon Secrets

I didn’t care when I saw the shelves full of old leather-bound books, spines cracking with age.

Power vibrated around my hand as I reached for a book.

This is what I should be reading, not those books for kids.

I could feel the book as if it had its own pulse, which my body attuned to.

My hands trembled as I opened the book, letting the pages fan out, the musky breeze hitting my nose, sending ripples of anticipation through me.

Eagerly, I scanned the words on the page. Golden light brought each word alive as I read it, then floated upward, absorbing into my skin. Bits of knowledge passed directly to me, and my magic tingled throughout my body.

So I can be more powerful.

I liked it.

It was more than just the words coming from the page to me, but also my connection to the book. I was being fed information, and the questions settled in my head.

A bang outside the shop caused me to jump. I slammed the book closed as if I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

I held my breath, expecting Luna to come rushing out from the back room or light to start coming through the door like when the other witches came.

Neither of those two things happened, and my pulse settled.

A scratching sound outside the shop caught my attention. It was soft and curious, and instead of being scared, I wanted to find out what was causing the sound.

Probably a possum or something.

I put the book on the table by the salt lamp, then went to the door. Using my newly made spell, I unlocked the door.

A fleeting thought rushed through my head, and I wondered if I should be doing this.

Whether or not I should, I cracked open the shop’s front door and peered out.

My eyes locked with those of an animal.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was the same wolf as last night.

I should shut the door and lock it. The wolves killed my parents.

Instead, I opened the door farther, exposing myself to something I couldn’t fight off if it tried to attack me.

I’m seeing things.

When I gazed into the eyes of this wolf, I knew this was real, and I wasn’t afraid. Its fur was beautiful and thick, soft, and clean with mottled patterns of gray. I wanted to run my hands through its pelt and feel its power.

The wolf lowered its head, eyes remaining on mine.

Instinctively, I held out my hand.

My breaths became shallow and slow, but my heartbeat raced. I watched the wolf inch closer to my hand.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

My hand remained outstretched toward the wolf.

What are you doing here?

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