Page 10 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

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I should be more creeped out that the psychic alien was following me, but I can’t be bothered to care.

Like a dog on a leash, I leave the archive proper just before sunrise and I look for the sensation of him—finding the path by winding through the stacks and searching for the feeling of his mind. I desperately try to ignore the nagging reminder of my sex dream from last night, telling myself it’s just because this is new and exciting, and Thorne is a source of potentially unlimited knowledge.

Right. It has nothing to do with the roguish good looks and the dark academia novels I used to smuggle into the convent. None at all.

I take a deep breath and let it ground me. No dreams, no fantasies, no…weird moments where I hear his voice in my head. Just research. I’ve been keeping my thoughts disciplined since yesterday, forcing myself to focus on the questions I’ve been chasing since before I even knew Thorne existed.

That’s why I’m here—to learn about the Lost Expeditions and humanity’s history with Elixir .

Not to wonder why his voice feels like it’s echoing inside me.

The secret door to his alcove is already open when I arrive, signaling that he was clearly waiting for me. He’s sprawled in that velvet chair again— God , that velvet chair—one leg draped over the arm rest, a book held loosely in his hand. The light from the skylight catches in his silver-white hair, his lean form clearly visible beneath a plain white shirt and black pants.

He looks like any other academic…in grayscale.

His black eyes flick to me then.

“You came,” he says.

“You asked me to.”

“I did.” He puts his book down, then straightens up. “I thought you’d like to see more of the Obscuary today.”

He stands, towering over me, and I cock my head, confused. “You’re not…don’t you need to stay hidden?”

He rolls his shoulders. “Not at night.”

“So you just…” I pause, frowning. “Aren’t you worried someone might see you?”

He smirks. “No one comes this far into the Obscuary. I’m more of a ghost here than a guest.”

I think he’s expecting me to laugh, but I can’t bring myself to do it…because there’s this sadness rolling off him, deep and dark.

He doesn’t see himself as a person; he thinks he’s a relic, just like the books here.

I’m about to say something about it, but he brushes past me toward the door. “Well?” he says. “Are you coming?”

I follow him, nodding. “Of course.”

We leave his alcove and take a left—deeper into the stacks than I’ve ever gone, into areas that aren’t on my map. The library is vast, planet-wide, so I figured there had to be unmapped areas in the Obscuary…but this is extreme. I only ha ve more questions when Thorne’s pet, Ashlan, materializes out of nowhere to trot along beside us.

“Is it dangerous back here?” I ask.

Thorne takes a beat to respond—a beat that leaves me more in suspense than I would like. Here I am, going headfirst into complete isolation with an ancient monster.

Just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I’m savvy.

“Not really,” he says. “Well…it can be, if you get lost. Pay no mind to the skeletons in the stacks.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” he snorts over his shoulder. “You’re fine, Page. You’re with me.”

I shouldn’t feel secure with that, not at all.

But for some reason, I do.

We have to turn sideways to slip through a narrow space between bookshelves, and my eyes go wide when we come out on the other side. It’s…beautiful. Skylights dot the ceiling, giving us glimpses of the starlit sky. A stained-glass window is on the other side of the room, and a circle of bookshelves coated with dust surrounds us. I can make out the tracks of tiny feet—more creatures like Ashlan, I think—and some of the books are cleaner than others, like they’ve been well-read.

At the center of the room is a low, circular table surrounded by cushions and stacks of books. A small, softly glowing lantern hangs above it, casting golden light over the worn spines and faded pages, while a plant seems to be growing in its light, ivy curling around the table and cushions.

“Thorne,” I whisper. “What is this?”

“An old reading nook,” he replies, walking forward and settling into one of the cushions with easy grace. Ashlan climbs up into his lap right away, nudging his hand until Thorne offers pets. “The librarians abandoned it decades ago. Too far from the main corridors, I suppose, especially after they added to the library.”

“Was this…” I frown. “The Obscuary—was it the first portion of the Grand Library to exist?”

He nods. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? This is where all the most dangerous books are stored…and what is a library at its core but a hallowed place for dangerous knowledge?”

I love the way he talks about books, and I blush when I see him looking at me, because he probably heard me think that. “You’ve been hoarding all the best spots, huh?” I ask.

He gives me a wry smile. “I’ve had time to find them.”

He reaches for one of the books stacked on the table—a thick, leather-bound volume with an intricate design burned into the cover. It looks ancient, even by Obscuary standards.

“I thought we could start with this,” he says, sliding the book toward me.

I trace the design on the cover with my fingers, appreciating the texture. I’ve always had a thing for paper, often running my hands over the backs of notebook pages when I get stressed out. And this…it almost looks like a letter or a word—but that can’t be. I thought I indexed every language here with my translator.

“What is it?” I ask.

“That figure you’re touching is a name, actually,” he says. “Borean script for Sevran— one of our pre-imperial warlords.”

“Wow,” I breathe. I open the book and skim the pages, finding more of that beautiful, curling script. “It’s…and what’s it about?”

“It’s a chronicle,” he replies. “One of the few that survived both our own historical purges and the fall of Borealis. It details the early expeditions to Earth, including first contact between humans and the Skoll. ”

My heart skips a beat. “This is exactly what I’ve been looking for,” I smile. “Can I?—”

“You won’t be able to read it.”

“Oh.” My face falls. “Of course…”

“But,” he adds, leaning forward. “I can read it to you. If you’re willing to listen.”

I meet his gaze, and for the first time, I see something almost soft in his expression. He’s offering this—not grudgingly, not because he has to, but because he wants to share it with me.

“I’d like that,” I say.

He takes the book from me, his long fingers kissing the edges of the pages as he flips to a section near the beginning. His voice is low and measured as he begins to read, the unfamiliar words rolling off his tongue like music. My translator gets muddled every time he says something in Borean…and it occurs to me he’s been speaking Skoll this time, almost certainly for my benefit.

That makes me feel something deep in my chest, burning bright.

At first, I try to follow the story, even pulling out my notebook to keep track of everything. But soon I find myself just listening…my eyelids drooping. There’s something hypnotic about the way he speaks, the way his words fill the space between us.

I don’t even realize I’ve drifted off to sleep until he stops talking; the silence is like an alarm bell.

“Page?”

I suck in a breath, righting myself. “Sorry…sorry, I’m up. Keep going.”

“You should get back to the village,” he says. “It’s late, and you’re exhausted.”

I straighten up, forcing myself to stay alert, even as the temptation to curl up on one of the cushions tugs at me .

“I’m fine,” I insist, thought my voice is soft. “I want to hear more. Please.”

Thorne raises a silver eyebrow, his black eyes studying me like I’m some fragile, curious thing he can’t quite figure out. For a moment, I think he’s going to chastise me.

He gently closes the book, setting it aside.

“Another time. Knowledge isn’t meant to be devoured all at once. It should be savored. Besides…” He leans back, resting his weight on one hand, the other absently stroking Ashlan’s fur. “You’re no good to me asleep.”

I shake my head. “What good am I to you anyway?”

He shrugs. “You’re surprisingly entertaining.”

As promised, Thorne walks me back out of the stacks and to the part of the Obscuary I recognize. I don’t realize he’s stopped walking until I’m almost at the gate, where I turn and look at him.

This relic in the library…trapped.

“I want to keep working tomorrow,” I tell him. “Early. Don’t make me hunt you down.”

Thorne chuckles softly, the sound low and indulgent. “I’ll be here,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of hiding from you.”

The words send a shiver down my spine.

He fucking knows . He knows about the sex dream.

I turn on my heel and head toward the gate again, desperate to escape the heat rising in my chest.

“Page?”

I pause, glancing back over my shoulder. Thorne’s black eyes catch the glow from a nearby lamp, gleaming like molten silver.

“Sweet dreams,” he says. “And please try not to think so loudly in the future.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to ignore the way my pulse quickens, the way my thoughts betray me even now.

“Good night, Thorne,” I mutter .

And then I’m slipping away, through the gate and into the real world again…to dreams that will probably be very, very loud.