Page 36 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

36

THORNE

W ithout much else to do, I review Borean Dissenters …and I continue my chronicle.

I grapple with my self-loathing, with the way I’ve made excuses or made myself unredeemable. Memories surface of old friends and colleagues, more and more painful recollections. My writing is deliberate and careful, each stroke of my pen painting another fragment of lost Borean history.

But the tether between Page and me pulls at my focus, her thoughts a faint whisper at the edges of my mind.

She’s conflicted. Troubled. The echoes of her emotions flit through the bond, disjointed but undeniable. Anxiety coils within her, sharp and persistent, and I feel her restlessness like an itch beneath my skin.

It’s the middle of the night. She should be sleeping. Hours ago, she connected with me and whispered good night.

Now, she’s stressed…afraid.

I put my pen down, leaning back in my chair, trying to leave her undisturbed. She needs sleep; and even more than that, we’ve been practicing ignoring each other for the sake of at least a semblance of privacy. It’s difficult now, though, as it feels as if her psyche is under attack. I’m so distracted by her distress that I hardly even notice Ashlan jumping onto my lap, butting his head against my hand.

I look down to find his antennae glowing gold, eyes fixed on me.

“She’s worrying herself sick,” I murmur, stroking his fur. “And I can’t even ask her what’s wrong without making it worse.”

Ashlan tilts his head.

“Are you telling me I should check on her?” I ask.

He’s absolutely not telling me I should check on her.

But it would be so easy…and the temptation is irresistible.

I close my eyes and let my mind drift toward hers. Even asleep, her thoughts are a chaotic tangle, flashes of conversations and memories flickering in the dark.

I hesitate for a moment. I shouldn’t wake her. But…she wouldn’t mind if I looked, just for a heartbeat, would she?

The first memory I see is of her sitting in her cottage with her friend Lyn, drinking together. She’d told me she discovered she wasn’t pregnant—I didn’t realize that Lyn had been there to hear it first, though. Something about that hurts, makes me feel a flair of jealousy.

Then Lyn is talking about Earth, about the Convergence. She’s recounting her great-grandmother’s suffering during the Convergence. The images hit me as if I’m seeing them in person, all through Page’s imagination.

Hollow bones. Wings affixed to fragile shoulders.

A body turned into a mockery of life.

The anger in Lyn’s voice is visceral, shattering Page’s attempt to stay neutral.

“She hated the Boreans more than anyone ,” Lyn says. “And honestly? I get it. ”

I recall Page’s reaction, her dismay…knowing she’s wondering if I was right about myself.

If I really am a monster.

The memory shifts. She’s in Davina’s office, panicking about how she can convincingly lie to her advisor. “You have two weeks.”

Page’s frustration bubbles to the surface, but she doesn’t argue.

She won’t tell a soul what she’s really doing.

And there’s Riley, desperately worried about her…Thalara hoping she doesn’t put her career in jeopardy.

Page is intent on saving me, but who’s going to save her?

The fragments blur together, a kaleidoscope of stress and sacrifice, and I feel the depth of her exhaustion. She’s risking everything for me—her friendships, her reputation, her future. She’s given up her own research, her own dreams, to fight for me.

I’m becoming her dream, and I hate myself all the more for it.

The guilt settles heavily in my chest. I pull back from her thoughts, my own mind reeling as I return to the echoing, overwhelming silence of the Obscuary.

She’s giving up too much. And I’ve let her.

I stand, pacing the length of the alcove. The truth is undeniable—Page is too young, too bright, too full of potential to be dragged down by the ghosts of my past. Even if we’re mates, there will be others who will love her. How could they not?

She deserves a life free of the burdens I carry.

But she’s stubborn. She loves me. And she won’t stop fighting for me, no matter how much I try to convince her otherwise.

I glance at the chronicle on the desk, its pages half-filled with my writing. The history of Borean dissent, the truth I’ve avoided for centuries, all laid bare. My resolve hardens.

If she’s willing to risk everything for me, I have to take risks for her. I’ll protect her from Davina’s suspicions, from Lyn’s anger, from Riley and Thalara’s questions and concerns.

I’ll find a way to make this right, no matter the cost.