POV: Kim
The library wasn’t a cathedral. Cathedrals had echoes and stained glass. This room was a vault.
Two-story walls of dark, polished mahogany stretched toward a ceiling lost in shadow. Thousands of books, spine-to-spine, created a smell that was thick with history, dry rot, the sharp tang of leather polish, and a complete lack of dusting.
I stood in the doorway, my bare feet silent on the thick Persian rug. The cashmere dress Mira had left for me felt entirely too thin for the chill radiating off the walls.
The Den was quiet. Frank and Jake were gone. The perimeter guards were occupied with whatever 'business' occupied wolves in the middle of the day.
WE SHOULD NOT BE HERE, Panic announced. Her voice bounced off the inside of my skull, loud and frantic. THIS IS A TRESPASS. THIS
