Page 39 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)
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I don’t want to leave him…but a girl’s got to shower.
Natural springs in the Labyrinth just won’t do it.
I’ve been in the Obscuary with Thorne for days by the time I finally creep out again, squinting into the too-bright sun. After that night—the night when he, quite frankly, fucked my brains out—we ended up diving deep into research. We went back to the reading room, investigated the book on dissent. He worked on his chronicle, while I returned to the Archive every so often to bring more books back to the alcove.
And we weren’t disturbed…so we just kept having sex.
That part was awesome.
But now I’m here, and my cottage feels all wrong, and I just can’t wait to get back to him.
I drop my bag on the table and head to the bathroom to shower, stripping off my clothes along the way. I’m just here to rinse off, then go right back to him; I remind myself of that when I find that I miss his scent.
I've never been like this with a boyfriend.
With…anyone, really .
I reach out to touch his mind when I step out of the shower, scrubbing my hair with a towel. I see him a moment later—in the reading room, going through a collection of Borean art. We're working hard to catalogue everything…then, when Davina asks for her report, we'll come clean.
I hope it's enough.
“I miss you,” I hear Thorne say in the reading room.
I smile softly. “It's been less than an hour.”
He spreads out another book on the table. “Still.”
I get to work grabbing all the essentials: a few fresh sets of clothes, the birth control meds I picked up when I got pregnancy tests from the hospital, my most essential books. I add the books Thalara sent me to the set, hoping she turned up something useful. I head to the kitchen to get some snacks, and?—
I hear a thud.
I turn slowly, terrified that someone has come in without being invited…but it's just a fallen book.
I cock my head in confusion and take a step toward it.
The book moves again.
The book skids an inch across the floor, as if caught in an invisible breeze. I freeze, my pulse hammering in my ears. I glance around the room, half-expecting to see someone—or something—but the cottage is empty. Silent.
It’s just me.
And the book.
I take another cautious step forward, my eyes locked on the leather-bound cover.
“What…are you?” I whisper.
As if there’s something in the house.
The book moves again, this time lifting slightly off the ground. My breath catches. Without thinking, I reach out with my mind, the way I do with Thorne when I touch his thoughts .
The book jerks toward me.
I yelp and stumble back, colliding with the table behind me. The book hovers in midair for a moment, trembling, before it slowly drifts to rest on the table. My heart is racing, my skin cold with fear.
This isn’t random.
It’s me.
I reach out again, this time consciously, focusing on the book. It quivers, then flips open, its pages fluttering as if caught in a breeze. My fingers tighten on the edge of the table, my thoughts spinning.
Is this…is this what happened in the Archive?
I think back to the first time I met Thorne—missing books on shelves, a trail of breadcrumbs to Thorne’s alcove. It was all so convenient, and I was so distracted by my discovery that I didn’t even question it.
But it’s all becoming clear to me.
It wasn’t the books. It was us.
Or…me.
I take a shaky step back, my eyes darting to the other books scattered around the cottage. As if on cue, they begin to move. One by one, they rise into the air, their spines straightening as if they’re standing at attention. I can’t stop it—I’m not even trying. It’s like my subconscious is reaching out, pulling them toward me.
“Chill, guys,” I whisper, as if that’s going to do a damn thing.
The bond with Thorne flickers, faint but steady, like a pulse at the back of my mind. It feels stronger now, more vibrant; a thread connecting us across the distance, no matter how far. I can sense him in the archive, absorbed in his work, completely unaware of what’s happening here.
Or maybe he does know—maybe he can feel it, too.
I sink into the nearest chair, my head spinning as the books slowly rotate in mid-air. My powers have always been unpredictable, but this…this is something else. It’s like they’ve been amplified, intensified by my connection to Thorne.
The realization hits me like a tidal wave, overwhelming and undeniable. It feels ridiculous now, that I could’ve failed to see it…but it’s all falling into place now.
He’s not just my partner, my lover, my friend.
He’s my mate.
I’ve read about bonds like this before, buried in obscure texts and legends. Some creatures in the galaxy are bonded on a cellular level, their souls intertwined in ways that defy logic or reason. I thought it was myth. A fairy tale. But the one thing that stands out is that mated pairs experienced greater effects from Elixir bonding, capable of true greatness.
This is real. Thorne and I—we’re connected. On a level so deep, it’s terrifying.
The books drift closer, circling me in a way that doesn’t feel unlike hungry sharks. I reach out to touch one, and it lands gently in my lap. I open it to a random page that discusses mating bonds in Skoll populations.
It’s too exact, too appropriate for what I’m thinking about.
It’s like my abilities can access minute details from my memory. If I’ve even glanced at a page, my connection with Thorne somehow helps me track down anything I’m looking for.
I hear footsteps outside, breaking through my daze, followed by a sharp knock at the door.
“Hold on!” I shout, quickly turning my focus to the books. “Fall,” I mutter, trying to dismiss them—but they won’t. Damn it. If anything, the books seem more excited, spinning a little faster, their motions almost gleeful.
I grit my teeth, weaving through the floating volumes as I head toward the door, hoping I can shoo them away before anyone sees this mess. But before I can reach it, the door swings open on its own.
Riley steps in first, followed by Thalara, Lyn, and Orin.
Riley freezes in the doorway, his eyes going wide as he takes in the sight of the books hovering and swirling around the room. Behind him, the others stop in their tracks, their faces cycling through a rapid range of emotions: confusion, shock, and in Orin’s case, undeniable excitement.
Riley is the first to realize he’s screwed up, managing to stammer out, “Sorry…I thought you said to come in.”
“What…is this?” Orin asks, stepping around Riley like he’s drawn to the phenomenon. His hand reaches out to touch one of the books, which snaps shut on his fingers like an angry animal before falling to the floor with a thud.
“Whoa—” Orin pulls his hand back, wide-eyed.
“It’s…it must be that weird gravity anomaly again,” I blurt, floundering. “You know, Mythara being Mythara, right?”
I trail off, my excuse sounding ridiculous even to my own ears. It doesn’t help that Thalara is already putting the pieces together. Her sharp gaze darts between the hovering books and the floor, her expression growing more calculating by the second.
“Page,” she starts carefully, her voice quiet but charged, “all those questions you asked about intermarriage, Borean powers, whether there are any of them left…this is related to that, isn’t it?” Her eyes widen as understanding dawns. “Are you half-Borean or something?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I just have?—”
“She has psychic powers,” Riley interrupts, stepping forward like he can shield me with his words. “It has a perfectly reasonable explanation. We should leave?—”
“Hell no,” Orin cuts in, crossing his arms. “This is fucking nuts. I’m not going anywhere until I learn more about your superpowers, Page.”
“I am really not that interesting?—”
“Page,” Lyn says, her voice soft but steady as she speaks for the first time. “I don’t know what this is about…but we’re worried about you, okay? That’s why we’re all here. Riley said you hadn’t been home for a while and he couldn’t get ahold of you.”
Fuck…of course. I’ve been ignoring my comm, leaving it uncharged. I try to think of yet another excuse, but before I can respond, Lyn adds, “I know you had the pregnancy scare?—”
“What?” Riley’s head snaps toward me, his eyes darting between me and Lyn. “Did he seriously…that shouldn’t be possible, right? I’m going to fucking kill him?—”
“Who?” Thalara asks, then freezes, her hand flying to her mouth as realization strikes. “No…no way. It’s not possible.”
“What isn’t?” Orin throws his hands up. “I am feeling very out of the loop right now.”
“You’re going to need to explain what’s going on,” Thalara says firmly, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Because Page…this power is Borean. And if what I’m thinking is true, this whole city could be in danger.”