Page 10 of Unraveled (A Kingdom of Beasts and Ruins #1)

I’m left alone with Finley, who cleans the wound in my torso with a gentleness I don’t expect from someone who works for a beast. My cheeks burn, and I clutch at what remains of my dress as he cuts through my corset with sharp shears, slicing through the boning like it’s butter.

“I’m sorry about this.” His expression turns apologetic. “I’m sure this is uncomfortable for you, but we don’t have a female healer in the castle.”

“I’m fine.” I’m not. “You healing me isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me tonight.”

I can barely breathe as he sutures my torn flesh, the pain making my toes curl back. I sweep my gaze around the room, trying to find something to distract me. Anything.

An enormous statue takes up most of a corner.

A life-size female with dainty pointed ears protruding from waves of expertly sculpted hair.

Her figure arches forward as if stuck in a dancer’s pose.

Her slender arms extend to the ground, her hands hovering over the tile floor.

Two massive white wings tilt down, framing her back and hiding her face.

I glance to Finley, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Now that Ash is gone, I can feel how ill I’ve become. Whatever spell the beast used to help me must work better if he’s near.

“That’s a fine cloak you’re wearing,” Finley says, and his magic hums through me, dulling some of the pain as he pushes the curved needle through layers of my skin once again.

I’ve lost count of how many stitches I have, but I know it’s more than fifteen. I blacked out for a moment before, and only recently woke again when he went through a particularly sore spot.

“Yes. But it’s not good for this weather.” I’m trying to remain awake. While Finley is helping me and doesn’t seem like he wants to take advantage of my condition, I can’t trust him.

“I noticed there’s an emblem embroidered on the back. What’s it for?”

“I won’t give you the answer the beast wants, Finley.”

He chuckles, shaking his head with an honest smile. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes,” I say, but can’t help the small grin tugging at my lips.

His expression sharpens at my words, and then he inspects the red fabric draping over my legs and part of my torso. “So... in Penumbra, the librarians can use magic?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m guessing it’s the emblem of the library you work at. There are traces of a spell woven into the fabric of your cloak, likely to protect you from the weather—even if poorly so.”

My mouth falls open and my cheeks warm. “I put the spell on myself.” I sigh with resignation. “I could never master that one...”

Alarms are ringing inside my ears. I never expected this man to put everything together so fast. After all, librarian is not a synonym for magic user . Only in Penumbra do we use the power of the old scriptures.

“If you say so,” he says, but judging by his expression, he knows he hit a bullseye.

“Why are you helping the beast keep me here?”

Finley ties one last suture but remains quiet. I don’t think he’s going to say anything else.

“Did he also steal you away from your home?” I whisper, like the walls are listening.

“In a way...” Finley shakes his head, and amusement takes over the somberness that previously shone behind his features. Then he sobers. “I’m here because I must be. Because Ash is my best friend and my allegiance is to him.”

I frown. His posture is stiff as he shoves his medical tools back into the case. Its worn leather creaks as he opens it wide and pulls out a large roll of cotton bandages.

“Am I wrong to assume you won’t tell me why I’m still alive—or why I’m here?”

“You assume correctly,” he says. “I should get you to your room before you freeze to death in this icebox.”

“My room?” I take his offered hand, and he helps me stand like a newborn fawn, shaking and trying not to lose what remains of my supper. “Is that another word for dungeon?”

“You aren’t a prisoner, Mia.”

“What do you call being held against a person’s will?”

“Fine.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you aren’t sleeping in the dungeons. Now, we should get going. The sun’s almost out.”

There’s a slight shift to his tone. I wouldn’t have noticed the hitch in his breath if the room wasn’t so quiet.

“Finley,” I plead. “I know Ash is your friend, but surely you can see this isn’t right. Help me escape?”

I stood too fast and now everything spins around me. He steadies me by my elbows, and his touch is warm with a spike of magic that eases my vertigo. His brows scrunch in the middle as he looks at me with pity. I hate it, and I want to not like Finley, even though he’s been kind to me.

“If I do, you’ll die in the forest before midday. I can’t help you get all the way home because you know too much. It’ll take your people less time than you think to get here to try to kill Ash...”

My lips part as I try to come up with an argument, but the image of the beast in the machine takes my words away. I can’t promise my people won’t come. Not when Ash is so powerful he can destroy the veil. And honestly, I don’t know why I should care.

“I won’t tell them anything, I promise. I have magic and can protect myself.”

Except I don’t have my amulet, and without it, I’m nothing but a regular human. I press my hand to my stomach where the pressure of magic churns. Probably the remnants of something I took.

“Not during the blood moon,” he says, leading me out of the study and into a wide, dark hall.

Windows line one side, with metal details swirling like vines and casting long shadows on the polished checkered floor. Our steps echo as we cross the space, and the chill of the winter morning seeps under the layers of my torn dress.

I hug myself, trying to bring some heat back into my shivering body. I’ve never experienced this kind of cold. It’s like the kiss of death. I swallow and glance at the paintings lining the other wall. Dark hues of burgundy, forest green, and raw umber in a variety of still life of dying flowers.

“This is... cheery,” I say, quickening my steps to catch up to Finley, who’s left me behind. I don’t want to be alone here. “So, why is Ash so interested in the spell I used, or that I can do magic?”

“Who says he is?” Finley opens the door at the end of the hall. Its black metal hinges screech, and dust rains on us as we cross the threshold into a big, circular room.

My mouth falls open as I take in my surroundings.

From the wide staircase hugging the wall, its banister beautifully sculpted to depict nature.

To pictures framed in gold lining the upper half of the walls, from the top landing to the high ceiling, and arranged around a massive window letting in the gentle light of the approaching morning.

It’s not the grandness of this place that takes my breath away but the roses growing from every column, the vines climbing to the vaulted ceilings and covered with black blooms.

How can these flowers be alive in the middle of winter? When it’s so cold? My body is stiff with it. I stop moving to inspect the black leaves and even darker petals.

Magic clings to the surface. Around every stem and spine. The sort of power I can feel deep in my bones. They call me to come closer. To touch.

“Those aren’t regular roses,” Finley says from the bottom of the steps. He’s gripping the baluster with white knuckles, and he looks impatient. “Come on, Mia, I really need to get you into your room.”

I nod and force myself to move. His urgency is odd, and likely not good for me.

“Why are we in such a rush?”

“Because there are times during the day that walking these halls is dangerous for us.” He signals for me to walk in front of him, and blue magic swirls around his fingers.

“For us, humans?”

“Yes. Especially those of us with magic. Mages, sorcerers”—he pauses long enough that I turn back to look at him—“librarians... take your pick.”

“The art of sorcery is dead, it doesn’t exist anymore...” I whisper, and immediately press my hand to my parched lips, horrified the words made it out. I’m so tired—hurting and afraid. My filter is long gone.

I’ve spent the better part of the last five years of my life studying old grimoires written by sorcerers. Wishing I could wield my magic like they once did.

“In Penumbra, maybe. But out here in the world, our race is very much alive.”

It takes us a long time, due to my slow pace, to climb three floors before Finley takes a turn down a new hall.

I can’t help but gawk at the roses as they grow thicker the farther up we go, fully covering old paintings and furniture.

Their scent surrounds us as we walk a narrow corridor lined with doors but no windows.

The size of this place makes me numb in a way the cold hasn’t. I’m not even sure how I could find my way out of here before someone found me.

“Is Ash the king of the beasts?” I ask, wanting to fill in the silence but not expecting an answer. Finley fishes a ring of skeleton keys out of his cloak’s pocket, and uses one to unlock a door that’s the same deep green as his clothes.

My palms sweat as my new prison cell comes into view. It’s massive, with high ceilings and a large crystal chandelier hanging over the bed.

Finley strolls in, and the candles light in succession with a spike of his magic. Then, he turns to the fireplace in the corner, and swirls of green power burst out of his hand and toward the old, moldy wood lying there.

My arms hang limp on either side of my body as I follow him, taking in the grand space, bigger than the bottom floor of my townhouse.

“Why am I here? Why did Ash take me? At least tell me something before you lock me in.”

He tugs at one of the velvet drapes with a lot more strength than closing a curtain would need. When he nods, I can breathe.

“Alright, Mia. I’m sure you know what the lunargyres do every blood moon.”

How could I not?

“Well, like the lunargyres, the moon compels Ash to hunt for a human. Now, he usually ignores the call, but tonight, something was different.”

“Because I used my magic on him?” I drag a finger over the dressing table, leaving a trail through the thick dust. No one has been in this room in ages. “So, is he the king?”

Finley stares but doesn’t answer. Instead, he opens his healing case, fishes out three vials of a dark red potion, and places them on the table. “Take this later in the morning to help with pain. Someone will bring you food.”

I take in the rest of the room and the plants in each corner. The roses aren’t as massive as the ones in the halls, but they still reach the ceiling. There aren’t many blooms here, just a couple—and while they’re clearly a magical flower, I can’t help but like them.

My eyes drop to the bed. I could try to escape as he leaves, but I know—like he does—that there’s no way I could run all the way to Penumbra with my injuries.

“If anything happens, and I mean anything , there’s a bell beside your bed.

This is my wing, and my bedroom is not too far.

” Finley picks up his case from the ground and walks toward the door, turning before he steps out to say, “I don’t know how much you know of the lunargyres, Mia, but tonight—and for the next three days—they will be active.

Please, try to stay and rest. Escaping won’t end well for you. ”