Page 40 of Unraveled (A Kingdom of Beasts and Ruins #1)

He’s here. Our king is here .

My thoughts stall, and I watch with widened eyes as Ash moves the curtain and studies the party on the other side. The books were always talking about Ash. They must have a connection to him and feel him nearby. Could this mean they’re from his personal library? Written by him, or by an ancestor?

“We really need to go, but crossing the dance floor is risky with my eyes.” He bares his teeth right as he drops the curtain. “I left Yvette in an alcove similar to this, but across the room. If anyone from her team finds her, they’ll turn this place upside down.”

“The grimoires, they’re saying ‘Our king is here.’ Ash, I think we should inspect them. What if one of them is what you were hoping to find in Penumbra?”

“You can hear them so clearly?” Ash tilts his head, as if he’s trying to hear what I heard, inspecting me in a stretching silence. “Interesting...”

I press my lips tight and consider claiming I was exaggerating. I don’t want another person I care about to judge my behavior and think I’m weird. Or worse. He may not believe me, like Irene back home. “I know it sounds strange...”

“Mia, I’m a cursed fae who dreams of stars telling me a future that may or may not happen. I don’t think it’s strange. Where are you hearing them?”

A loud, clearly inebriated group walks in front of us, unable to see us hiding in the shadows of this alcove.

“Down the hall,” I whisper as they pass.

His hand wraps around mine and he drags me close so quickly I can barely brace myself before I hit his chest. “We’re going to blend in with these drunken fools. We have to move fast, Monster. I don’t know how long I have with this glamour.”

The enchantment that hides traces of feathers and wings is quickly fading. He pulls me out of our hiding place, and we blend with the party of friends to stroll around the room toward the same archway I walked through before.

Retracing my previous steps, we move with ease behind the group who seems not to notice us and then break off to turn down the dimly lit hall. It’s empty like before. Quiet enough I can hear the grimoires’ voices.

He’s here .

We move like we know where we’re going, even if that’s a stretch.

Ash’s belief in my perception wakes the magic lying dormant within me.

But unlike all the other times where it makes me feel like I’m losing control, right now, it doesn’t paralyze me.

It gives me confidence knowing I’m not completely defenseless.

With my new amulet, I feel powerful again.

It doesn’t take long to find the grimoires as they beckon us forward, right to one specific door.

The hinge’s screech is the only sound as we enter a dark space that smells like mildew and dust. Ash waves his hand, and from the tip of his fingers a small ball of fire floats to the gas lamps, and with a quiet whoosh, they each light in succession, burning cobwebs that had made a home inside their glass cases.

The newly illuminated space is small, with makeshift bookcases assembled from old crates. Gold magic waves in the air like summer grasses on a windy day. The grimoires’ magic.

Ash takes a step forward. His lips parting as he takes in the books. “You were right. These are some of our lost texts.”

There are hundreds of grimoires here, and it would take us days, if not weeks, to go through them. “How are we going to take them home without alerting the entire house?”

“Home?” His brows shoot up as he turns to me. “I never thought I’d hear you call it that...”

“I don’t know what home is right now,” I say, and fiddle with one of the long sleeves of my dress. “But right now, the castle feels more like home than Penumbra, where I’ve been lied to my whole life.”

His expression turns dark, and he nods. “I need time to work on the spell that will make it possible to carry these, so let’s hope, for our sake and theirs, that they don’t come looking for us.”

“We aren’t that lucky . . .”

“And here I was, thinking you’re the optimistic one between us. I happen to believe my luck has shifted lately.” He isn’t looking at his stolen books anymore. Instead, his focus is solely on me.

He holds my gaze until my cheeks feel like fire, and I turn away to wander the room, trying to find something to look at while he settles near the crates and magic swarms the place. Long scrolls of gold unfurl from his fingers, calling to the books that grow quiet, as if listening.

I take in the rest of the space, hugging myself to fend off the bite of the cold.

The walls once had wallpaper, but it’s been removed, leaving pieces of torn cloth, glue, and scrapes caused by a dull blade.

Whoever did it attempted to cover the broken plaster with dark gray paint, though poorly.

Artwork of fae engaged in various activities in mismatched frames leans against the walls.

A handful show them riding their horses in the forest. Probably more depictions of the Wild Hunt.

Then there are masquerade balls with fae and humans together, dancing, drinking. “This is peculiar...” My voice sounds hollow even to myself.

Ash remains silent, but I can feel his power drenching every corner of the room. Then, to my shock, I notice a plant growing where his magic kisses the walls. Roses, like the ones in the castle.

Except these aren’t black, they’re bright red, like my dress. I turn around, my eyes wide as I meet his. He told me back in the castle the roses were tied to the curse, but I never thought I would see that connection so clearly.

Ash turns to the new greenery with a frown. “They grow wherever my magic takes a deep hold. I believe it shows her where I’ve been.”

Her .

I piece together the fragments of truth I’ve gathered.

The one who cursed him was a woman. Someone close enough to Ash to steal his grimoires right out from under his nose. Someone he trusted, who was connected to him from the Wild Hunt. Another hybrid who apparently likes roses—or hates them.

I keep moving and continue inspecting every knickknack shoved into a dusty corner. Every stolen item that once belonged to the fae.

What Ash said makes sense. The roses could be a way for the spellcaster to discern where he’s been, to track his movements, but what if it’s more than that? What if they can somehow communicate with her?

The edge of an emblem etched in metal catches my eye. It hangs high above the ground over a narrow display case of dull old weapons.

It isn’t magical, but the hair on my arms lifts as I recognize the symbol. I know it well. A shield between two olive branches, and in the center, a pile of books. Except with one difference, this one has an owl with human eyes on top of the books, and a glowing star floating over its head.

With Knowledge, Power says the scrolls beneath the shield. The words of the librarians.

I must have stopped breathing, for my vision blurs as I stare at it unblinkingly. Ash’s hand rests on my shoulder, and his warmth seeps into my freezing skin.

“Are you alright?” He follows the line of my vision to the wall and the emblem hanging from it. His eyes widen. “That’s the strix symbol. Come, Monster, we have to go.”

“What’s a strix?”

He crooks a finger at me, beckoning me forward as he heads for the door with long strides.

I struggle to keep pace with him. “Strix is the name my father gave the hybrids after the prophecy was revealed. It’s a bird, a bad omen—and it kills infants.

After my kingdom fell to the curse, some hybrids banded together and formed the House of Strix, which has been hunting fae across the realm for the last decade. ”

“So the fae hunted the hybrids, gave them a name that would scare anyone, and now the same is happening the other way around?”

“It’s tragic how that works, isn’t it?” Ash looks away from me, but not before I see the shame hiding in his expression.

The ache in the back of my throat thickens, making it hard to speak. “So, whoever owns this house is a strix—or has ties to them?”

He nods as we pause by the door before he cracks it open, just a fraction. The music flows in, soothing, and he closes it again. “There’s a group searching the rooms down the hall. They may have found Yvette.”

The song outside ends, and a new one begins. I can hear the steps in the hallway coming closer.

The pressure of my power hums near my skin, hot, but not uncomfortably so. It’s ready to react. To defend Ash if it needs to... I’d rather not think of why my brain went there. Or what it could mean that I feel such a way.

Ash’s glamour is fading rapidly. His ears aren’t even rounded any longer.

His eyes are sharp, tense as they shift from mine to the door. “If they come in here, they’re as good as dead, and if this is a House of Strix, our exit might get messy.”

“You said they won’t hurt us if there’s a crowd. This place is full of people.” When I press my hands to his chest, I can feel how fast his heart is beating. “Perhaps we can leave through the window?”

“My wings are tied to the glamour.” He hesitates, glancing to the other side of the room. “Which is fading faster than I thought, so perhaps luck is on our side tonight after all and I can fly us out. But I need time.”

How can we stall? I run through possibilities, and heat pools deep in my belly when I think of a way.

Physical shows of affection make people uncomfortable.

I remember how Nera acted when Ash and I remained close after we arrived at Hedrum, which matches how I felt when I stumbled upon that couple earlier.

Fire pools ion my stomach as I remember their moans and the movements of their naked bodies, and I glance at my king. A cold wave snakes through me as those words echo in my mind. He isn’t mine—but perhaps I want him to be my something . If we make it through the night.

The steps are right outside, and I don’t have time to explain. Or to come up with a better solution. But this could help us escape without anyone getting hurt.