Page 24

The doors swung inward silently, revealing a cavernous space that seemed to defy the physical dimensions of the building.

Shelves stretched impossibly high, disappearing into shadows overhead.

Books, scrolls, tablets, and artifacts I couldn't begin to identify lined every surface.

The air was heavy with the scent of ancient paper and something else – something that reminded me of thunderstorms and ozone.

Several of Rowen's servants, souls who had pledged themselves to his service in exchange for privileges in the afterlife, moved efficiently among the stacks, their translucent forms glowing faintly in the dim light.

"I've instructed them to search for any mention of entities that exist between realms," Rowen explained. "Particularly those that manifest as shadows or feed on fear."

Sierra had begun to look more like herself, eyes widening with wonder as she took in the impossible library. Her natural curiosity was reasserting itself. A good sign.

"Can I help?" She stepped forward. "I might recognize something that reminds me of what I saw."

Rowen nodded, gesturing toward a large circular table at the center of the room where several ancient texts had already been placed. "Start there. The translations appear automatically as you read, a feature of the library itself."

I followed Sierra to the table, never releasing her hand.

The protectiveness I felt wasn't unusual.

I'd appointed myself her guardian from the moment we'd met, but it had intensified a hundredfold since she'd awakened screaming.

The thought of anything threatening her, especially something I couldn't simply dispatch with a blade or spell, filled me with a cold rage I hadn't experienced in centuries.

She must have sensed my thoughts, because she squeezed my fingers gently. "I'm okay," she murmured. "Really. I'm feeling better."

"Good," I said, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "But I'm not letting go all the same."

We settled at the table, Sierra immediately pulling one of the ancient tomes toward her. It was bound in what appeared to be skin of some sort, not human, thankfully, and the pages inside were thin as gossamer and covered in symbols that shifted and rearranged themselves as she focused on them.

"This is incredible," she breathed, momentarily distracted from our grim purpose by the magic of the library.

"One of the few truly impressive things my brother has created," I admitted, earning a sharp look from Rowen across the room.

"He preserved and restored many of the books in here, with help, of course.

Not to mention he traveled through the different circles of hell to gather more.

Shocking how much one can contribute even in a wasteland like Hell. "

"I heard that," he called, not looking up from the scroll he was examining.

Sierra smiled. A real smile this time, not the weak approximation she'd managed earlier, and the sight of it eased something tight in my chest. She was recovering her spirit, shaking off the paralytic fear that had gripped her since the nightmare.

I watched her as she bent over the text, her silver hair falling forward despite the braid I'd woven.

The soft sweater slipped further down her shoulder, revealing the pale skin beneath, still marked with fading evidence of our claiming ritual.

The sight of those marks, mine, Rowen's, Archer's, filled me with a fierce satisfaction.

She was ours. And whatever this Shadow Beast was, it would learn the cost of threatening what belonged to us.

For hours, we sifted through ancient knowledge. Rowen moved with purpose through the stacks, occasionally bringing new materials to the table. I kept my promise not to release Sierra's hand, which meant I read over her shoulder, occasionally helping to turn pages when the task required two hands.

Gradually, I felt the tension in her body ease further. The trembling didn't return, and color slowly crept back into her cheeks. When she absent-mindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a habitual gesture I'd come to recognize, I knew she was truly coming back to herself.

"Look at this," she said suddenly, tapping a page in the book before her. "It mentions 'the dwellers in the spaces between' – beings that exist in the void separating the realms."

I leaned closer, studying the text as it translated itself beneath her fingertip. "The Void Walkers," I read aloud. "Entities without physical form who feed on fear and discord..."

Rowen appeared at our side, moving with the supernatural speed he rarely displayed outside of battle. "Let me see."

He scanned the page quickly, his expression darkening. "This matches some of what you described, Sierra, but it's still not quite right. These Void Walkers can't manifest physically or communicate directly."

"The Shadow Beast spoke to me," Sierra confirmed, her brow furrowing. "Very clearly. And while it didn't have a solid form, it definitely had... shape. Structure."

I squeezed her hand encouragingly. "Keep looking. We'll find it."

And we did continue searching, hour after hour, as the artificial dawn outside the library gradually brightened to full day. Sierra remained steadfast beside me, her mind engaging with the research, asking insightful questions that sometimes surprised even Rowen.

She was no longer the terrified woman who had awakened screaming in our bed. With each passing moment, each text examined, each theory discussed, I watched my fierce little mate reclaim herself piece by piece.

It filled me with pride, and no small measure of desire, even in these strange circumstances. Sierra had always affected me this way; her resilience was as arousing to me as her body.

"You're staring," she murmured at one point, glancing up from a particularly ancient scroll.

"I'm admiring," I corrected, brushing my thumb across the pulse point in her wrist. "There's a difference."

A faint blush colored her cheeks. Another good sign. "Later," she promised, her eyes meeting mine with a heat that had nothing to do with our research.

"I'll hold you to that," I replied, lifting her hand to place a kiss against her palm.

Rowen cleared his throat pointedly from across the table. "If you two could focus on the apocalyptic threat rather than each other for a few more hours, I'd appreciate it."

Sierra laughed, and the sound was like music after the horror of the early morning. She flipped him the bird. "You're just jealous."

She returned to her reading with renewed concentration, but I didn't miss the way her fingers remained entwined with mine, her thumb occasionally stroking across my knuckles in a gesture that was both comforting and promising.

Whatever this Shadow Beast was, whatever threat it posed, we would face it together. And in that moment, with Sierra's hand warm in mine and her spirit steadily rekindling, I allowed myself to believe we might actually prevail.