I glanced over the books, their thick, embossed spines so similar to the basic text Master Carn had given me. At the end of the bottom shelf, a thin journal-looking tome sat tucked between two larger books. I plucked it from the shelf. After wiping the dust from the top of it, I turned it over. The leather-bound book held only the wavy line-symbol embossed on it. No title or author on the cover. The blue leather was worn, and as I traced the lines one by one, a deep feeling of resonance hit me. My heart fluttered with excitement, and I opened the text. This book was old; the paper was stitched together—

A single sheet slid from the book. I snatched it from the air before tucking it into the back of the book.

Notes on Water was hand-written on the first page, followed by a bunch of chemistry-like equations.

Cool.

I kept the book, deciding to read it later, and moved to the fire shelf, scanning it for a similar tome to the one I held. My attention snagged on a title, and I nearly laughed out loud. Wielding Fire—An Advanced Guide for Self-Instruction.

Take that, Master Carn! I don’t need you.

I pulled the book from the shelf and sat on the floor, letting it fall open on my lap. There it was, in black and white on the table of contents page:

Creating and Transferring Heat I: Boiling Water

Creating Light I: From Lighting Candles to Live Flames in Your Palm

Creating and Transferring Light and Heat II: Fireballs

Grinning, I snapped the book shut.

Heading toward the door, I passed a shelf of books that all had the same width, height, and pretty gold lettering on the spine.

Squirrel.

I stopped and my smile turned into full-blown curiosity. These were yearbooks! The gold lettering on the spines were years from the 1900s up until now.

I traced my finger over the years, counting down to when my father would’ve been here.

But the yearbooks for the years he would have been here … were missing.

Gone was the year he graduated, along with the six before.

What the mage?

I climbed to my feet, intending to ask Mrs. Edi about the missing yearbooks, when I heard the large library doors squeak open, and the trickle of voices wound through the shelves.

“Edi, go to lunch early,” a man’s gravelly voice said. “And don’t come back for at least an hour.”

“But—” she interjected, possibly to tell them a student was still in here.

“Now!”

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked.

What an asshat!

I glared at the air, offended for the librarian, and her shuffling footsteps disappeared, followed by the door clicking shut. Oh crap! What was I supposed to do now? I stepped toward the aisle to let whoever was here know of my presence when someone else spoke.

“It stinks like wet dog in here,” another man said. His voice had the musical quality of a high mage, specifically the one in the royal blue robes who seemingly had it out for me.

Nervous anxiety crawled down my spine.

Hiding might be better.

“Are you certain there are no other wolves in here?”

Peeking through the shelves, I saw the high mage from the council standing near the door, and beside him was none other than the king himself. Not that I’d ever met the jerk, but his pictures were plastered everywhere. He had the same dark hair as his nephews as well as the jacked body, but his chin jutted with belligerence, and his muddy-brown eyes glinted with malice. Rage and Justice clearly took their mean-lessons from this douchebag.

The king locked the library doors with a click and then turned to the high mage.

Raising his eyebrows, the king said, “I’m sure you’re not implying that I stink, Kian.”

“How’s our project going?” the high mage asked, ignoring the king’s statement. “Any idea how Crescent trash was summoned early? I was hoping things would be further along than they are, Declan.”

“The investigation is still ongoing. We’ve had some odd interferences.” The king groaned. “Also, we’ve had our first fated mate-pair of opposite clans, but no one knows who they are. Another project I’ve been pursuing.”

My throat went bone dry. The fact that they were working together was scary as hell, especially because both “projects” centered around me. I strained to hear more regarding the fated mates.

“A mated pair, from opposite clans?” Kian asked. “That’s impossible.”

“Indeed.”

“That’s… a high crime.”

I swallowed hard, and then my heart stopped when the high mage said, “Find out who they are, and have them report to the High Mage Council.”

Frick. I knew fated mates from opposing clans was bad, but a high crime?

Kian continued to talk, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore. I needed to find a place to hide … because they were coming this way.

I raced to the other end of the row, at the very back of the library, and my heart dropped when I realized the only way out of here was that black onyx door. The one not for students.

“I’ve put a lot of faith in you,” Kian said, his voice louder as they drew near.

If they got any closer, one of them would smell or hear me. I reached out and splayed my palm on the cool black stone, hoping it was unlocked, and pushed.

Best luck ever.

The door opened without a sound, and I slid inside, closing it gently.

A light turned on automatically. I ducked down on my hands and knees, wishing for invisibility.

Please don’t walk through the door.

Then, the strangest thing happened. Even though the door was closed, I could hear them while they continued their conversation—as if they were standing in the same room.

Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have opened the magic black door.

“…and the selkies killed four of our guards—”

“How did the selkies get past the barrier?” Kian, aka Shady High Mage, asked. “Something is amiss here, and I’m going to look into it. I suggest you do the same, Declan. We need to know who is sabotaging us and put a stop to it.”

“Of course I’m looking into it, but only high mage magic could allow them to cross the barrier—and I don’t have that magic.”

The accusation was clear. Silence descended on their conversation.

There was no answer, and after counting to ten, I stood, intending to crack the door and peek out when a cold hand clamped over my mouth.

My shriek died in my throat.

“Shhh,” a woman whispered from behind me. “If they catch you in here, you’re dead.”

My heart hammered in my chest, and I nodded to let her know I understood.

Slowly, she pulled her fingers back one by one.

My blood pumped through my veins, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard my head spun. I pivoted and came face to face with the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“Holy mage.” My eyes widened as I took her in. Silvery blue hair fell to her waist in a cascade of soft curls. I knew from the way she carried herself and her golden cloak that she was a mage. A high-level one.

The room I’d ducked into wasn’t a room at all but a grand hallway leading to what looked like an even bigger library—of sorts. Bookshelves lined the walls with domed twenty-foot ceilings and stained-glass inlay. It was beautiful.

And I wasn’t supposed to be here. “I … well … you see—”