Hours passed without Cora noticing.
The book in her hands was dense, the language old-fashioned and sometimes hard to follow, but she couldn't stop reading. Page after page of supernatural history —the origins of werewolves, the ancient vampire courts, the fae who had retreated to realms beyond human reach.
And the witches.
The section on them was shorter than the others. Cora noticed that immediately. Where vampires had entire chapters dedicated to their lineages and politics, where werewolves had detailed accounts of pack structures and territorial wars, the witches had barely twenty pages.
Most of it was about their destruction.
"The Culling",the book called it. A coordinated effort, decades ago, to eliminate the witch bloodlines. The text was dates and numbers and vague references to "necessary measures" and "the preservation of balance."
It made Cora's stomach turn.
She kept reading anyway.
The witches had been powerful, the book said. Too powerful, some believed. Their magic was tied to nature itself — to the earth, the sky, the living things that moved through the world. Some bloodlines could command animals. Others could heal with a touch. Others could kill with a thought.
The most powerful of all were the bloodlines connected to the Nexus.
Cora frowned at the word. Nexus. She'd never heard it before, but something about it resonated. A humming in her chest, faint but present.
She turned the page, looking for more information.
The section ended abruptly. Whatever came next had been torn out ,ragged edges where pages used to be. Someone had removed them deliberately.
"Interesting choice"
Cora's heart stopped.
Damien stood at the end of the aisle, his shoulder leaning against a bookshelf, his arms crossed over his chest.
He'd changed since the training grounds. Dark shirt now, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair was damp, like he'd recently showered. The low light of the library caught the angles of his face.
Cora closed the book instinctively, like she'd been caught doing something wrong.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough." He pushed off the shelf and walked toward her slowly and Unhurried. "You missed dinner."
"I wasn't hungry."
"Liar."
He stopped in front of her chair. Looking down at her with those pale eyes that saw too much.
"I could feel you," he said. "You were so focused, so absorbed. I thought something was wrong."
Cora's pulse quickened. "You came looking for me?"
"I came to make sure you weren't doing something stupid." His gaze dropped to the book in her lap. "Like reading about things that don't concern you."
"Everything in this world concerns me now." She lifted her chin. "You made sure of that when you dragged me into it."
"You found the section on witches."
It wasn't a question. Cora nodded anyway.
"Did you read about the Culling?"
"Yes." Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling slightly. She pressed them flat against the book's cover. "The book didn't say much. Just that it happened. That the witches were... eliminated."
He moved closer. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"My father led the Culling," he said. "Thirty years ago. He believed the witches were a threat ,that their power was too great, too unpredictable. That they would eventually try to control everything."
"Did they?"
"Some of them." Damien's jaw tightened. "Some of them wanted to use the Nexus to reshape the world. To put themselves at the top. My father decided the only solution was to eliminate them entirely."
Cora's throat was dry. "And you? What do you believe?"
He didn't answer immediately. His gaze searched her face, looking for something she couldn't name.
"I believe," he said slowly, "that my father was a brutal man who did brutal things. And I believe that some of those things were necessary. And some of them were not."
It wasn't an apology,It wasn't a condemnation. It was something in between, complicated and honest in a way she hadn't expected.
"The pages about the Nexus are missing," she said. "Someone tore them out."
"I know."
"Do you know what the Nexus is?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me?"
He looked at her for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid.
"Not tonight."
Cora opened her mouth to argue but he was already reaching for her. His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face up toward his, and the words died in her throat.
"You think too much," he murmured. "Ask too many questions."
"You don't answer enough of them."
His mouth curved.
He kissed her,His lips brushed against hers, testing, tasting. Giving her time to pull away.
She didn't.
Her hands came up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer. He made a sound low in his throat — satisfaction, hunger and deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, slow and thorough, learning the shape of her mouth like he had all the time in the world.
The book fell from her lap, hitting the floor with a soft thud.
Damien's hand slid from her jaw into her hair, cradling the back of her head. His other hand found her waist, pulling her up from the chair until she was standing, pressed against him, her body fitting against his like it belonged there.
The bond hummed between them. Warm and alive ,
Cora's fingers curled into his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the fabric. She wanted more. Wanted to press closer, to lose herself in the sensation of him, Something worth savoring.
No one had ever kissed her like that before, no one had ever even kissed her .
His mouth left hers, trailing along her jaw, down the side of her neck. She tilted her head back, giving him access, a soft sound escaping her lips.
Her stomach growled.
"Cora." His voice was rough against her skin. "You need to eat."
"I'm fine."
"You're not." He pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were darker now, the blue almost swallowed by something hungrier. "I can feel it. You're running on empty."
As if on cue, her stomach growled again .
Loud. Embarrassingly loud.
Cora's face flushed crimson.
Damien stared at her for a moment and then he laughed.
It was a real laugh. Low and rough and startled out of him, like he hadn't expected it. The sound transformed his face, softening the hard edges, making him look younger. Almost human.
"Shut up," Cora muttered, mortified.
"I didn't say anything."
"You're laughing."
"I'm not." But he was still smiling. Actually smiling. It did something strange to her chest. "Come on. I'll have the kitchen send something up."
He bent down and picked up the fallen book. Looked at the cover and then he set it on the chair.
"You can keep reading tomorrow," he said. "There's more in the restricted section. If you want, I'll show you."
"Restricted section?"
"Where we keep the books that aren't meant for casual browsing." He offered her his hand. "But that's a conversation for another night. Right now, you need food."
Cora hesitated. His hand hung in the air between them, an offering she didn't fully understand.
She took it.
His fingers closed around hers, warm and firm. He led her toward the library door, their footsteps soft on the old wooden floor.
"Damien."
"Hm?"He glanced at her.
Before she could talk , a sound cut through the silence.
Distant and loud . A howl, followed by another, and another, rising into a chorus that made Cora's blood run cold.
Damien's hand tightened on hers.
"Stay behind me."
Everything happened fast.
Damien pulled her toward the door, his body shifting in front of hers, shielding her from whatever was coming. The howls were louder now , it was closer , mixed with sounds that were harder to identify,
Shouts, Crashes. The unmistakable thud of bodies hitting walls.
"What's happening?" Cora's voice came out steadier than she felt.
"We're under attack."
The library doors burst open.
Marcus stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead. His eyes were wild, his wolf close to the surface.
"Alpha. The eastern perimeter's been breached. At least thirty wolves, maybe more." He paused, something dark passing through his expression. "They knew our patrol routes. Knew exactly where to hit."
Damien's jaw tightened. "Inside information."
"Has to be." Marcus's gaze flicked to Cora, then back to Damien. "Someone in the inner circle. Someone we trust."
Cora saw Damien's expression shutter — that mask sliding back into place, cold and hard.
"Get her somewhere safe," Damien said. "The panic room in the east wing."
"Damien—" Cora started.
"Now, Marcus."
He released her hand. Turned toward the door. And then he was gone, moving with that predatory speed she'd seen at the training grounds, disappearing into the chaos.
Marcus grabbed her arm. "Come on. We need to move."
Cora let herself be pulled along, her heart pounding, her mind racing.
The estate shook as something exploded in the distance.
The attack had begun.