Northwestern Library Novels & Stories

" I thanked her right away and headed towards the shelves. I scanned the shelves as I walked past them, making a silent promise to see them all. Turning to the northern wing, I noticed this part of the library was completely different from the other parts, it even smelled different. I sighed and began glancing through the books in search of a book with information on the latest alphas.

The people were writing their story at the Phoenix Center. The library at the Phoenix Center was like the heart of the building. It had arched windows that looked out at the North Slope. The green light from the vineyard poured in. Lit up the shelves. The shelves were filled with books about farming, old legal papers and handwritten notes about the soil. The air smelled like the cedar beams and the coffee that Sarah had brought from the Nairobi highlands.

Nina found me in the library. It was a beautiful room — floor-to-ceiling shelves, leather chairs, a fireplace that someone kept perpetually burning. I'd discovered it on day three and had been coming back ever since, working my way through the pack's history books. "Research?" Nina asked, settling into the chair across from me. "Trying to understand what I've gotten myself into." I held up the book I was reading — A History of the North American Packs, Volume III. "Did you know there are over two hundred packs in North America alone?"

When they entered the library, Ayla stopped breathing. It wasn’t her first time in a library. She spent time in the royal library of Myrthana. But the Royal Library of Nordmar was at least twice as big as the one in Myrthana. Shelf after shelf of books and more books, from the floor to the ceiling. Sofas and armchairs, tables and chairs were close to the bookshelves. Furs covered the floor, and magic crystals were placed around the library.

I would keep that in mind. “Only you would keep your library in a box.” Dahlia picked up a blue book in the “History and Knowledge” section. The book looked ancient judging by the intricate calligraphy of the words in front of it. ‘The Nortis America’ was the name and Dahlia opened the book. “One can never be too careful. You and I both know that I have enemies and some people would kill me to get their hands on this library. It houses many secrets, secrets that could be the undoing of the different clans and species in North America.” “Why did you bring us here then?”

I asked Deb for a clear morning and she gave it to me with the particular competence of someone who understood that clear mornings were not indulgences but maintenance. I went to the Library of Congress. I had never been inside. Nora had asked about it, years ago, before any of this, before the campaign, when Washington was still a city I came to for meetings and left again. I had promised to go with her and I had not yet managed it, but I had been thinking about it. The main reading room stopped me at the entrance the way beautiful rooms sometimes do. I stood there for a moment. The light and the height and the silence of accumulated knowledge, all the things that had ever been written down

she said simply. I tilted my head. “How so?” “You’re quieter. More... still. Like you’re listening to something no one else can hear.” I gave her a small smile. “Maybe I am.” After breakfast, I found myself drawn to the library. Not the new one in the mansion, but the old ruins deep in the forest—what was once the sacred hall of records for the first wolves of the River Heart Pack. Nathaniel had shown it to me once, when I was still new and unsure. Now, I walked the crumbling path alone, feeling the stones call to me.

With a wave of her hand, Nina made her way back to Wendy’s wing of the house. I took my chance and, practically, dove head-first into the library and closed the door behind me. The adrenaline calmly wore off as I roamed through the numerous shelves in search of the topic that’s been harrowing my thoughts lately. ... I hadn’t realized how much time had passed since I gathered a pile of political science books and hunkered down in my favorite spot. It wasn’t until I heard the library door open that I glanced up to see Alexander leaning in the doorway.

I couldn't bear to hear the answer if it meant Jasper had moved on to a transactional arrangement of his own. “Enough of this,” I muttered, shaking my head as the maternal fury in my veins began to boil over the surface again. “Where is he, Nikolai? Where is Jasper?” “Come to the library,” Nikolai replied, turning on his heel. “We don't discuss the layout in the open.” The private library was a massive, two-story cavern of dark mahogany, leather, and walls lined with thousands of leather-bound texts. A massive digital map of Moscow flickered on a central glass desk, tracking real-time logistics paths, shipping lanes, and corporate asset distributions across the city.

I followed him blindly, conscious not to breathe too loudly. Could never underestimate werewolf hearing. “Down this hall and turn left. There’s a door. It is the back entrance of the library,” he said, and started walking away. I found the door just like he said. When I opened it, my jaw dropped. “Oh goddess,” I whispered in awe. Shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls. I had never seen so much paper in one place. The collection could probably rival the National Wolf Historian Archives, the central information hub of the wolves in the country.