Chapter 47 - The Cost of Knowledge
1064 Words
Kevin’s fingers loosened around Florence’s wrist.
For a moment neither of them moved.
The growl of Alpha Anthony still vibrated in the air like thunder rolling through the room.
Kevin slowly turned his head toward him.
Anthony stood in the doorway of the library.
Tall.
Still.
Terrifyingly calm.
Kevin understood the situation instantly.
If he continued what he had been about to do—
If he struck Florence now—
It would no longer be a personal act of rage.
It would be war.
And even Kevin was not foolish enough to drag his father’s entire pack into open conflict with Anthony’s territory.
Anthony’s pack was enormous.
Strong.
Disciplined.
A war between them would drown both territories in blood.
Kevin took a slow step back.
His jaw tightened.
“There was unfinished business between me and Florence.”
Anthony stepped forward.
Slowly.
A cold smile curved his lips.
“I know.”
His eyes flicked briefly toward Florence.
“She survived.”
Kevin’s shoulders stiffened.
Anthony walked closer.
Close enough now that the space between them vanished.
Kevin could feel the weight of the Alpha’s presence pressing down on him.
Anthony leaned slightly toward him.
His voice dropped low enough that only Kevin could hear.
“You have five seconds.”
Kevin froze.
Anthony’s eyes were completely cold.
“Disappear,” he whispered.
“Or your father will receive your fingers in a bag.”
A brief pause.
“With a declaration of war.”
Kevin swallowed.
He did not answer.
He simply turned and walked toward the exit.
His footsteps echoed across the wooden floor of the library.
Then the door closed behind him.
Silence returned.
Florence stood beside the table where Kevin had shoved her.
Her wrist still throbbed from his grip.
Slowly she straightened.
Her breathing steadied.
Then she looked at Anthony.
“Thank you.”
Anthony did not respond immediately.
Instead he studied her face.
His expression was not what she expected.
Not relief.
Not anger.
Something closer to disbelief.
“Why,” he asked finally, “did you come here?”
Florence blinked.
“The university grounds are neutral territory.”
She spoke carefully.
“I didn’t break any rules.”
Anthony exhaled slowly.
“This has nothing to do with rules.”
He crossed his arms.
“You came here knowing Kevin studies here.”
Florence hesitated.
“I…”
Anthony’s voice sharpened.
“That was foolish.”
Florence lowered her eyes briefly.
He was right.
She had not thought about Kevin.
Her focus had been on something else entirely.
“My things,” she said quietly.
Anthony raised an eyebrow.
“Your things.”
Florence nodded.
She walked toward the far wall where a narrow wooden locker stood between two bookshelves.
From her pocket she removed a small key.
The metal clicked softly as she unlocked it.
Anthony stepped closer.
When the door opened—
He paused.
Inside were books.
Not one or two.
Nearly thirty.
Some were wrapped carefully in parchment.
Others were bound with thin linen ribbons.
Anthony glanced at Florence.
“You collect them?”
Florence smiled faintly.
“Not exactly.”
She gently lifted one of the volumes.
“The library receives many old books in terrible condition.”
She ran her fingers lightly along the restored spine.
“I repair them.”
Anthony watched with quiet interest.
“Restore them?”
Florence nodded.
“Some were almost falling apart.”
Her voice softened slightly.
“I bring them back to their original state.”
Anthony took the book from her hands.
He opened it carefully.
The pages were clean.
The stitching along the spine was precise.
The restoration work was delicate enough to be almost invisible.
Anthony examined the binding closely.
“This is impressive.”
Florence’s lips curved slightly.
“If the library decides to discard them afterward…”
She shrugged lightly.
“I keep them.”
Anthony flipped another page.
“You saved them.”
Florence nodded.
Anthony closed the book slowly.
“You continue to surprise me.”
Florence did not answer.
Instead she selected several of the volumes and placed them carefully into her bag.
Anthony watched for a moment.
Then he turned slightly.
“Sam.”
The name carried through the room.
Seconds later Sam appeared in the doorway.
“Yes, Alpha?”
Anthony gestured toward the locker.
“Organize transport.”
Sam looked inside.
His eyebrows lifted slightly at the number of books.
“Deliver all of them to Florence’s residence.”
Florence turned sharply.
“That’s not necessary.”
Anthony ignored her.
“Immediately.”
Sam nodded.
“I’ll find workers.”
He left the library again.
Florence crossed her arms.
“I can carry them myself.”
Anthony stepped closer.
Without asking, he reached into her bag and removed the books she had just packed.
He placed them back inside the locker.
Florence opened her mouth.
Anthony raised a finger slightly.
“No.”
His tone made the argument pointless.
Florence sighed softly.
“You’re being unreasonable.”
Anthony closed the locker door.
“You almost got yourself attacked.”
Florence frowned.
“That’s hardly the same thing.”
Anthony looked at her.
“You underestimate how dangerous this situation is.”
Florence hesitated.
Before she could answer—
The door to the dean’s office opened.
The dean stepped back into the library.
He carried a small envelope.
Then he stopped.
His eyes widened.
Alpha Anthony stood beside Florence.
The dean looked suddenly uncertain.
“Alpha Anthony.”
Anthony inclined his head slightly.
“Dean.”
The old man glanced between them.
Then he remembered the envelope in his hand.
“Oh—yes.”
He walked toward Florence.
“Your final salary.”
He handed her the envelope.
Florence accepted it politely.
“Thank you.”
Anthony’s gaze drifted down.
He noticed the check partially visible through the thin paper.
He reached out casually.
“May I?”
The dean blinked.
“Of course.”
Anthony opened the envelope.
He studied the number written on the check.
Then he looked up at Florence slowly.
One eyebrow lifted.
“Well.”
His tone carried faint amusement.
“So it turns out…”
He held up the check between two fingers.
“I’m paying you far too little.”
His eyes met hers.
“If you’re coming here to collect pocket change like this.”
- Writer
