A chilling breeze sweeps through the library. The fires not lit, they wouldn’t be either. Every other pack member that wasn’t guarding, were having the weekly updates on current targets, plans and issues. Suddenly grateful for the fleece-lined clothing. The clothes that had been packed, though limited, didn’t include a great deal of winter attire. It was likely one of the last things Clara would have thought about. Logan sits at a wooden centred round table. Hand in his hair, messing up the loose dark fringe. Clara’s finger slides over the spines of various books. Mainly journals, some of the writing indecipherable. Others were simply bound in red leather and numbered. “How does your library system work?” Logan levels his eyes on Clara.
“Primarily years. What you see before you in most re
