Emily Rosewood's Point Of View.
I found them exactly where I knew they would be. It's two nights after the first dream memory.
The restricted library was hidden behind a false wall of books on the third floor, accessible only by a panel that opened when you pressed the carved wolf's head in the right spot. Adrian had shown it to me the day before, half warning, half dare.
Tonight the room glowed with lamplight and the low flicker of the hearth. Shelves rose three stories high, sealed with iron and old magic. The air smelled of dust, leather, and secrets older than the house itself.
Adrian stood on the rolling ladder, one hand braced against a shelf, the other flipping through a massive grimoire bound in black wyvern hide. Sebastian sat cross-legged on the Persian rug, surrounded by op
