Chapter 69 THE LIBRARY

Chapter 69 THE LIBRARY
HAVEN

The light from the rose-leather book surges upward like liquid starfire, swallowing me whole. One moment I am in the library, staring at the huge book, the next the world folds in on itself as the book sucks me up and spits me out into somewhere entirely new.

I stumble forward, bare feet landing on cool, living marble that pulses faintly with inner light. The air smells of old parchment, blooming night-jasmine, and something deeper, purer, like ancient fae magic that sings against my skin like a long-forgotten lullaby, the kind aunt Mira used to sing to me.

When I lift my head, my breath catches so sharply it hurts.

A long palace-like building stretches before me in impossible, breathtaking vastness.

The Library Of Lost Souls!

It is not a single room or even a small building. It is an entire realm contained within the pages of one beloved book. Towering shelves of dark wood and glowing crystal rise higher than any mountain I have ever seen, spiraling upward until they disappear into a soft, star-dusted sky that should not exist indoors. Floating gardens drift between the aisles, meadows of silver grass and roses that bloom in every shade of rose-gold and violet. Rivers of liquid moonlight wind lazily through the air, carrying glowing orbs that I realize are souls—tiny, shimmering lights that pulse with memories and emotions.

Some are bright and steady; others flicker like candles in the wind.

Everywhere I look, books float freely, pages turning on invisible breezes. When one drifts past me, I catch glimpses of living scenes inside: a dragon hatchling taking its first flight, a fae child laughing in a sunlit meadow, lovers parting at dawn.

The Library is not just a repository of knowledge. It is a sanctuary for every lost story, every endangered soul my mother tried to save before she sealed Eurolys away, every one she tried to save from the fate she brought upon the world.

“Mother…” I whisper, voice trembling with awe and fear. “Is this real?”

Her presence solidifies beside me, no longer translucent but warm and solid, as if she has stepped fully into this place with me. She wears the same flowing silver gown she always has on, her wings half-unfurled and glowing. Tears shimmer in her silver eyes, eyes that are so much like mine.

“It is as real as anything can be inside a memory woven from love and desperation,” she says softly. “Welcome to the Library of Lost Souls, my brave girl. This is where I hid everything I could not bear to lose.”

I reach out and touch the nearest shelf. The wood is warm, almost alive. A book slides into my hand on its own. When I open it, golden light spills out, showing me flashes of fae villages that no longer exist, their flowers still blooming in perfect health. My chest tightens.

“This is what the fae need,” I murmur. “The power to restore their flowers. To push back the corruption. If I can bring even a fraction of this back…”

Mom nods, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It is why I created it. When Eurolys’s darkness began to consume everything, I poured the last of my strength into this sanctuary. Every soul I could reach, every spark of pure fae magic, every memory of peace, I bound them here so they would survive even if I did not.”

We begin to walk together down the endless aisles. Time feels strange here. Minutes stretch like hours, yet my body does not tire. We pass sections where shelves rearrange themselves into living gardens, where rivers of moonlight carry whispering voices of the dead and the lost.

Mom points out different wings: the Hall of Dragon Flames, where ancient dragon souls rest in coils of living fire; the Garden of Fading Stars, where fae who gave their lives for the seal still bloom as eternal flowers.

As we walk, I feel something shift deep inside me.

It starts as a tiny spark, warm, golden, and unmistakably familiar. It flutters low in my belly, like the brush of dragon wings against my ribs. I stop mid-step, one hand flying instinctively to my abdomen. The spark pulses again, stronger this time, and a wave of pure, protective love washes through me so fiercely my knees almost buckle.

“Mother…” My voice cracks. “What is this?”

She turns to me, her expression softening into something radiant and knowing. She reaches out and lays her hand gently over mine where it rests on my stomach. The spark brightens at her touch, as if recognizing her.

Her eyes brighten up instantly and I hold my breath not daring to hope.

“You carry new life, Haven,” she says, voice thick with emotion. “A child conceived in fire and storm, bonded already to both dragon and fae blood. I felt the moment it took root, right after you awakened fully during the Hydra fight. The power you unleashed that day… it called this little one into being.”

Pregnant.

The word crashes over me like a tidal wave. I stare down at my still-flat belly, tears blurring my vision.

A child.

Auren’s child. Our child. The realization brings a rush of joy so sharp it hurts, followed immediately by a terror so cold it steals my breath.

“I cannot go into Euron,” I whisper, the truth slamming into me with brutal clarity. “Not now. Not while I carry this life inside me. Auren’s heir. Our future.”

Athalia’s eyes fill with understanding and sorrow. “No, you cannot. Not yet. The ritual to seal the fracture from the inside would risk the child as much as it risks you. Eurolys’s corruption is too strong, too hungry. It would sense new life and try to twist it.”

I sink slowly onto a nearby bench formed from living vines and blooming roses. My hands shake as I cradle my stomach. Inner thoughts tumble over one another in a chaotic storm: A baby. I am going to have Auren’s baby. He does not even know yet. He has been so protective already, and now… now there is even more at stake. I cannot leave this child fatherless, and I cannot leave Auren to raise our son or daughter alone while I disappear into the void.

But the other side of the coin is equally terrifying. Eurolys is free, and the monsters are growing bolder. The fae flowers are withering. If I do nothing, there may not be a safe world left for this child to be born into.

“I need to postpone the ritual,” I say aloud, the decision crystallizing even as fear claws at my throat. “I will carry this child to term. I will give birth. And only then, only when our baby is safe in this world will I walk into Euron with Tyren.”

Mom watches me with quiet pride and deep worry. “It is a heavy choice, my love. Time is not on our side. Eurolys grows stronger every day he walks free. The veil grows thinner under his influence. But a child… a child born of dragon fire and fae storm is a rare and powerful thing. Perhaps this little one is part of the balance we need.”

We continue deeper into the Library, mom guiding me toward the heart of the sanctuary; the Core of Eternal Bloom, where the strongest remnants of her power are stored. As we walk, she teaches me how to draw threads of that power back into the real world. I feel the fae magic respond to me, flowing through my veins like liquid starlight mixed with the familiar heat of dragon fire. With every step, the withering flowers in the outside world grow a little stronger in my mind’s eye. The seal on Euron gains a fraction more stability.

Hours—or perhaps days—pass inside the Library’s timeless space. We talk about the child. Athalia shares memories of her own pregnancy with me, the joy and fear she felt even in the shadow of Eurolys’s cruelty. I tell her about Auren—his stubborn protectiveness, his rare soft smiles, the way he looks at me like I'm an answer to his prayer. She laughs, a sound like silver bells, and says the Dragon King has finally met his match.

Next she takes me to the silver shore, where hundreds of fae people are there, surrounded by a strong magic energy that acts like a barrier, keeping them tied to the shore.

“This is why we can't leave," she explains. “I spent a long time building this place and put a whole lot of memories in it to make it secure for my people and I. But that magic grew stronger by day and soon, it forbade them from leaving the shore."

“So I'll have to neutralize it if I want to free you?"

She nods and my mind is instantly made up. I came here to find my people and bring them back. I'm not leaving until I have achieved that mission.

I close my eyes and focus on my light like Auren taught me. I locate my center and instantly begin to channel my powers towards the magic barrier. The barrier is strong but I'm not willing to give up.

I put in more and more energy till I finally feel my magic bypass the invisible wall that served as a barrier.

“You did it!" Mother says, her voice excited.

The fae instantly approach us, eyes filled with relief and gratitude. They kneel before me and bow their heads.

" You may rise,” mother commands. " We are free now. Go home and rebuild what was taken from us."

They all nod and rise to their feet. In a single file, they make their way away from the shore.

I turn to my mother, about to ask her what happens to the library when I feel a sharp pain in my chest.

I feel the pull of the real world tugging at me. The bond with Auren flickers stronger now, desperate and aching. I feel his fear, his rage, his love pouring through the thread that connects us. He is waiting for me, suffering because of me, and that's when it actually dawns on me how long I have spent here.

“I have to go back,” I say quietly, as mom and I stop in front of a floating garden where tiny dragon souls circle like fireflies. “Auren needs to know about the baby, Tyren needs to know the ritual must be postponed. And I… I need to live these months with my mate and our child growing inside me. I need to give this little one as much peace and love as I can before I have to leave.”

She nods, her expression both proud and admiring. “Then go, my brave girl. Draw as much of my power with you as you can. It will help you in the battles ahead. Especially with the little one on the way. I'll be heading back to rebuild Vaeleria and we would love to have you for a visit.”

She pulls me into an embrace.

For the first time, it feels completely real; warm arms, the scent of jasmine and starlight, a mother’s love that has crossed death and memory to reach me. Tears slip down my cheeks as I cling to her.

I did it. I freed my mother.

“I love you,” I whisper. “Thank you for showing me this. For giving me a chance to help you.”

“I love you more than stars and sky,” she a
nswers. “And thank you for accepting to free us. Now go.”

I turn around to leave and pause.

“Oh fuck!"