Luna. Chapter 86

(Lyra's POV)

We decided to try the pack's archive library next, a dusty basement room that housed the oldest texts. Most people avoided it because the lighting was terrible and the organization was nonexistent.

"Perfect hiding place for forbidden knowledge," Kael said, pulling on the overhead light.

The bulb flickered ominously before casting a weak yellow glow over rows of ancient shelves.

"Mama, it smells like old secrets down here," Asher whispered.

He was right. The air was thick with dust and the musty scent of old paper.

"Let's split up," I suggested. "We'll cover more ground."

I took the far end of the room, running my fingers along cracked spines and faded titles. Most were in languages I couldn't read, but a few caught my attention. Lunar Prophecies. Ancient Bloodlines. The Origin of Supernatural Gifts.

"Find anything?" Kael called from across the room.

"Maybe. You?"

"A book about werewolf dietary restrictions from 1823. Riveting stuff."

I smiled despite my nerves. This felt almost normal, the three of us working together toward a common goal.

That's when I heard the ominous creaking.

"Kael," I said, looking up at the ceiling. "Does this place seem stable to you?"

"Define stable."

The creaking got louder. I looked at the towering bookshelf next to me and realized it was swaying slightly.

"Um, we might have a problem."

"What kind of—"

The words were cut off as the entire shelf tipped forward, hundreds of books cascading toward me like an avalanche.

I had maybe two seconds to react. Not enough time to run, barely enough time to throw my hands up and brace for impact.

But instead of crushing weight and pain, I felt strong arms wrap around me, pulling me backward against a solid chest. Kael had crossed the room impossibly fast, getting between me and the falling books.

We went down hard, Kael taking the brunt of the impact as books rained down around us. When the noise finally stopped, we were tangled together on the floor, breathing hard.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice rough.

I was pressed against his chest, could feel his heart racing. "Yeah. You?"

"Fine." But he didn't let go of me.

For a moment, we just lay there in the wreckage, staring at each other. His face was inches from mine, his eyes dark and intense.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Always."

The word hung between us, heavy with promise and possibility.

"Are you going to kiss me?" I asked, barely breathing.

"Do you want me to?"

Yes. The answer was immediate and overwhelming. "I don't know."

He smiled, soft and understanding. "That's okay. We have time."

But as he helped me to my feet, I wondered if we really did.