Chapter 92 Silence in the Library
Seren
I shot straight up in bed, chest heaving, heart racing as the terror from my nightmare clung to the edges of my waking mind. The dream—a swirling vortex of shadows and whispers and remembered pain—had evaporated, leaving behind only the chilling residue of fear. I fumbled for the bedside lamp, the sudden light a meager shield against the encroaching darkness that still seemed to press against the bedroom walls.
Duncan’s scent was faint, barely lingering, though he hadn’t been gone for a full day yet. We’d had no word from the group that went to Blood Moon when I’d gone to bed. Glancing at the clock and seeing that it was just past three, I doubted that had changed. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cold hardwood a shock to my bare feet. A shiver traced its way up my spine, not entirely from the chill. The silence of the suite was oppressive, broken only by the frantic thrumming in my ears. I needed to move, to shake off the lingering dread. I padded toward the window, pulling aside the heavy curtain. The moon, a skeletal fingernail in the inky sky, offered no comfort. The world outside was as still and silent as a tomb.
Turning from the window, I threw some clothes on. If I was going to be awake, I might as well make use of my time. There was a library down the hall, and I had questions. I wanted to know more about my bond with Gideon, about white wolves, about why that man’s eyes turned red today. Mom didn’t say anything about it on the way home, but I overheard her telling Aidan, and he sounded concerned. If Duncan were here, I’d just ask him outright.
After a wrong turn that led me to a small kitchen, I finally made my way to the Alpha family’s private library. The walls were filled with scrolls and old leather-bound books. There was a small alcove that contained a plush chair, small sofa, and round table. Directly across from that, a gas fireplace was set into the wall. I flicked the switch to on, and the glow of the flames began to dance, chasing away the chill that had settled in my bones. The familiar scent of aged paper and ink filled my lungs—a welcome home of sorts.
Without a specific volume in mind, I figured it would be best to just browse through until I saw something that sounded like it would help. Trailing my fingers along the spines as I looked, the familiar leather a comfort, I stopped on a book titled "A Kingdom from Ash: The Ashbourne Reign." I slid it off the shelf, cradling its weight in my arms as I continued my search. By the time I’d looked over all the shelves, I added three more books to my pile—"A Compendium of Bonding," "The Moon Goddess’s Blessed," and "Vampires: Blood and Legend."
I settled into the chair, warm from the fire, and picked up the book on bonding to start. Skimming through, I found plenty of information on the mate bond and familial bonds. I found out that regardless of pack affiliation, family bonds stay intact barring a formal rejection. This lets families maintain their ability to mindlink and feel each other as long as they’re close enough. It was an interesting piece of information, but not what I was looking for. There was no mention of a bond specific to twins, so I shut the book with a sigh and moved on to the next one.
Reading about vampires was drier than I would have thought it would be. There was quite a bit of historical information related to vampire politics. Briefly, on one of the last pages, there were handwritten notes about a vampire who attempted to turn a werewolf, but time and water damage had blurred most of the ink. I could barely make out the word “hybrid” before the page dissolved into a smudge. Frustrated, I flipped back, searching for any other clues: a name, a location, anything to build upon. My fingers traced the faded lettering, seeking some undiscovered detail, but found only more frustrating gaps. The politics I could handle. The dusty tomes, the genealogies, all acceptable. But this, this tantalizing hint of something…else…was the true draw, and the true torment. I slammed the book shut and shoved it off to the side.
In lifting "A Kingdom from Ash: The Ashbourne Reign," a folded paper fluttered out and slid across the floor. I retrieved it, opened it and laid it flat on the table in front of me. Branches and names flowed across the page. The script of a family tree, I realized. The ink was faded, some names almost illegible, but I could make out dates, significant events marked with small, elegant asterisks. A peculiar symbol resembling a coiled serpent appeared beside one particular entry. Intrigued, I traced its outline, my finger pausing on the name it accompanied: Michael.
The door creaked, the sound echoing through the silent room, making me jump. Footsteps landed softly on the carpet, and my mother’s scent reached me.
“Seren, love, how long have you been up?” She pressed a kiss on the top of my head.
I looked around, seeing that the sun had come up without me noticing and was shining through the windows. My arms reached over my head as my back popped, the stretch feeling good after sitting for so long. “Apparently, I lost track of time. I woke around three and couldn’t sleep, so I decided to do some research.” I waved a hand at the books and the family tree on the table.
“What’s this? Oh, the royal lineage. My goddess, this is old. It stops with your father’s generation.” Her gaze grew pensive as she examined it, her fingers gently tracing the branches.
“Who is Michael? Do I have an uncle?”
Her lips pressed together. “You did. Michael was your father’s older brother. Unfortunately, he died sixty years ago. There was…well, not quite a war, but not quite a skirmish, either. The vampires and some rogue wolves paired up, attempting to overthrow the crown. He was killed in that battle, and your father’s coronation was not long after that. It broke your grandparents’ hearts to lose him.”
“There’s so much about my family that I don’t know. So much that I’ve missed out on.” A heavy feeling settled in my chest, a dull ache of unspoken stories and half-forgotten faces. The silence in the room seemed to amplify the whispers of the past, the echoes of laughter and tears I’d never heard firsthand. Mom reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing gently.
“We’ll make up for it. We’re going to spend the next few weeks making more memories, teaching you about yourself and your lineage, and being the family we never got to be. And I think we should start with some of that today.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re an air and water elemental, just like me. We’re going to start your training.”