Secrets in the Library

At night, the mansion was known to have its own kind of silence, a feeling that dominated the halls and filled the air with presence of wealth, power, and danger. It was in the shadows of this silence that Elena moved, her feet were very quiet against the floor, her entire body tuned in to every sound around her: the creaking of wood, the brush of wind against the window panes, and even the faint scurry of a mouse somewhere in the pantry.

Her heart was beating very fast, but it wasn't from fear. For once, she wasn’t exactly running from Nyla’s wicked orders or Lucia’s sneering and humiliating remarks. Tonight, she was chasing something… for herself.

She had stumbled upon the library as she cleaned a few days back after one of the maids, terrified by Lucia's voice, had left the key compartment open. Curiosity had immediately awakened inside of her given her love for books, and it was so strong that she didn't even wonder why the library was always locked in the first place.

When she went in and turned on the lights, her eyes widened in unbelievable disbelief…Books! Hundreds of them.

The shelves were massive and towering structures, almost touching the high roof and stacked fully with thousands of volumes that spanned across various fields, genres and eras. She had never seen so many collections gathered together in one place, and even her old pack’s library had been a modest room with just a few shelves, half empty and half forgotten. But this…this was a cathedral of knowledge.

It had become her sanctuary.

She closed the door and sat cross legged at a long oak table, as her fingers traced over a faded map of the pack's territory in its early days…mountains, rivers, and the faint outline of neighboring packs. Notes scrawled in an older hand spoke of border patrols and secret trade routes once used during ancient times of war, and Elena read it all, feeding her mind all the information.

She only had one goal in mind, to find the weak points…places where she could slip through unnoticed.

Her body was still supposed to be aching from the day’s chores she had done, but in the silence of the library, the pain suddenly seemed to have dulled. Her mind, long starved for escape, happily feasted on the words before her. She read about the laws written generations ago, about punishments for betrayal, about the traditions that Damon’s ancestors had upheld with blood and fire over centuries of existence. She read until the lines blurred and her eyelids began to flutter, fighting the exhaustion that came like a tide at the beach.

She was however snapped awake by a soft sound that was too deliberate to be random. She jerked her head up immediately, and from the doorway came a soft and mocking laugh.

“Well, well,” Nyla’s voice purred. “What have we here?”

Elena froze, her hand still resting over the map. Nyla stalked fully into the room, dragging along the oversized silk robe she was wearing. That dark and twisted smile Elena knew too well was on her lips as always.

“You surprised me, Elena,” she purred softly, circling around like a hungry predator. “I never took you for a scholar, or maybe you’re just too stupid to actually know your place.”

Elena opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and kept quiet instead.

Nyla looked toward the shelves, tapping her nails idly against the wood as she passed. “Books won’t save you, little lamb. Do you really think history matters when you’re nothing but Damon’s… charity case?”

Elena kept her face calm, although her insides were already burning with anger. She had learned quickly that showing emotion only fed Nyla more, and she was not ready to start kicking back yet.

Nyla came even closer, her perfume invading all of Elena's personal space. “This library is off limits to the likes of you. Keep sneaking in here, and I’ll make sure these precious pages are ash before morning. One spark is all it takes.” She dragged her finger across the map Elena had been reading, rubbing a line of dust across it. “Imagine what Damon will say when he finds out that his unwanted mate prefers to play in the restricted library rather than serve.”

Elena still kept her mouth sealed.

Her silence seemed to irritate Nyla, and the grin on her face faded slightly, replaced by a look of annoyance flashing in her eyes. Without another word, she hissed and stormed out of the library, shutting the door behind her. Elena sat down trembling, gripping the edges of the table until her knuckles whitened.

But she did not cry.

She closed the map, turned off the lights, and then left the library with the memory of Nyla’s threat burning in her mind… but it was not enough to scare her away. She would definitely return again… She had to. Knowledge was survival.

…

It was later that same week when exhaustion finally caught up with her.

She had been reading an ancient account of territorial wars, tracing old battle strategies and the paths warriors had taken through the forests. Her head dipped once, twice, until finally her body surrendered. She slumped forward, and her cheek rested against the open page as her breath came in slow and even steps.

She never heard the door open, neither did she hear Damon's footsteps as he walked in and stood by the doorway. He watched her for a while as if surveying a piece of his real estate properties, but something seemed to be holding him still.

Elena, asleep, looked nothing like the girl who scrubbed floors under Nyla’s command or stood trembling under Lucia’s ridicule. Her face, in rest, carried a certain softness… something untouched, unbroken, even after everything she had been through.

He came a little closer, and his eyes fell on the open book, on the fragile body across it, and then lingered on the way her fingers still curled as if refusing to let go of knowledge, even in her sleep.

He could wake her. He could scold her for trespassing in rooms she had no business in. That was the expected thing. The logical thing to remind her of her place.

Instead, he took off the coat he had on from his shoulders. Dark, heavy wool, carrying his masculine scent, and warm from his body. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped it over her small figure.

She stirred faintly but did not wake.

For a brief moment, his hand hovered over her hair in an almost tender gesture, an almost human emotion… before he quickly pulled back as if he had been burned by his own hesitation. His eyes quickly hardened again and his cold demeanor snapped back into place.

Without a word, he turned and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

When Elena woke up hours later, stiff but a bit rested, she found herself wrapped in a warmth that was not her own. Confusion and unease quickly flooded her brain as she stared at the coat in panic. She knew who it belonged to, and a thousand questions swam through her head.

He had been there…

Why hadn’t he punished her? Why had he… covered her?