At the top of the stairs, Dexmon set her down carefully.
She was gone in a blink, stopping before an ancient grandfather clock that stood alone against the wall.
Its face dulled with age, its presence unmistakably wrong.
"That's new," Dexmon said.
At that moment, Gavriel, Elara, and Hale entered the library.
Elara had come looking for Serena, knowing she had been with Hyran for some time now. She had heard the rumblings echo through the halls and dismissed the idea immediately. Surely that had not been Serena.
Hale spotted Elara hurrying ahead and followed her without thinking. He had spent the entire day trying and failing to figure out what to say to her, but this at least gave him a reason to be near her.
Gavriel came last.
He had been pacing the nearby corridor for nearly an hour, pretending he had business anywhere but the library. Entering outright would have looked suspicious. He absolutely was not trying to see Serena. That would be ridiculous. So when he saw Elara and Hale heading that way, he seized the opportunity and fell into step, casual, unbothered, exactly as planned.
Elara stopped short inside the library.
Mage-librarians stood frozen, all staring upward. Her gaze followed theirs, and she saw Serena.
Elara sighed.
"Less than twenty-four hours," she muttered, already charging for the stairs. "These rumblings had better not have anything to do with you."
Gavriel and Hale were right behind her.
"Serena!" Elara hissed, storming toward her, voice sharp and commanding.
A violent chorus of shushing erupted from the mage-librarians.
One of them actually clutched his chest, like Elara had just kicked a sacred altar.
Serena began speaking again in their ancient tongue, Draken-Vorah.
The grandfather clock split open with a soundless mechanical hiss. Its face parted, gears sliding aside as a gilded dragon emerged, wings unfurling in polished metal. A golden lever gleamed within its chest.
Serena pulled it without hesitation.
Elara skidded to a halt.
"Serena," she hissed, eyes wild, "stop glowing, stop touching things, and stop moving. You have broken something historically significant every six hours since we arrived. I need a drink."
The authority in her voice was absolute. The tone of a commander scolding a first-year cadet who had managed to trigger every alarm and was still somehow alive.
She lunged, reaching to hook Serena around the waist and physically remove her from whatever madness this was.
Alas, she grabbed air.
Serena had already vanished in a blur.
She stopped in front of a massive rug laid before the grand fireplace, thick and ornate, woven in deep crimson and gold. Dragons coiled through the pattern, ancient and regal.
She tried to move it without caution, as if it were not a centuries-old relic in a royal library.
The rug did not budge.
"Hang on," Dexmon said, already laughing as he hurried over. "Let me help you."
It took Dexmon a few seconds to roll, tug, and wrestle the damn thing aside.
Beneath it, gold-carved runes spiraled across the marble floor.
Serena spoke.
The runes flared alive, each word sharpening their glow.
By the time King Tiberon, Hyran, Elara, Hale, and Gavriel reached the top, a circular altar was rising from the floor.
Mage-librarians clapped like children who had just stumbled onto buried treasure.
A single golden lever crowned its surface. Serena pulled it without hesitation.
The floor rumbled again.
Serena looked toward the lowest floor again, clearly preparing to jump.
Dexmon did not like what he saw. He grabbed her waist with both arms just as she started to run.
"Stairs."
He ignored every eye tracking him, carrying her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Elara, Hale, Gavriel, and his father watched with distinctly different reactions.
Frankly, if Dexmon had not been the one holding her, he would have been staring right along with them.
He carried her down the stairs at alpha speed, feeling the urgency rolling off her through the matebond.
The second her boots touched the floor, Serena was gone.
She slipped back into the restricted section, weaving between shelves with ruthless precision, straight toward the far wall. Dexmon followed a breath behind her and then stopped short.
"Well," he said slowly, brow furrowing. "That is also new."
A massive dragon statue was now exposed along the wall, wings half-furled.
Serena stepped closer and whispered.
The library answered.
Ancient runes flared to life across every wall, gold script etching itself into stone in real time. All five towering levels ignited at once.
The torches roared to life in perfect unison on all five levels.
Serena spoke again, louder now. The same ancient tongue.
"These inscriptions on the stairs too!" a mage called out, pointing frantically. Even the grand staircase lit up in runes. "Draken-Vorah. From the founding tribes—"
"Shh!" another hissed.
Elara's head snapped up, brows drawing together. "How do you know this language?"
Hyran did not miss it.
There was something sharper than curiosity in her voice. She recognized it instantly.
The first librarian misunderstood her question. He adjusted his spectacles, visibly shaken. "Yes. But it is forbidden to be taught to outsiders."
"She is not an outsider," Hale cut in, voice flat and final. "Neither of them are. They are pack."
The dragon statue Serena was speaking to began to blow flame.
Serena stepped forward, unflinching. Dexmon reached for her, heart lurching.
"Serena—!"
But he was too late.
The fire washed over her like wind. She walked straight through and placed her hand against the dragon's stone head.
The library shuddered.
A deep vibration rolled through every level as torches and fireplaces flared brighter, their flames turning molten gold, matching the ceremonial flames from the day prior.
The dragon statue groaned, marble grinding as its massive body began to move. It coiled inward, spiraling down into the floor and leaving a staircase in its wake.
King Tiberon stared at the opening for a long moment. Then he turned to Hyran, his expression perfectly even.
"I am blaming you."
Serena's eyes flickered back to green.
She blinked, disoriented, and startled when she realized Dexmon was right there.
He looked at her like she had just walked through fire and refused to burn.
To be fair, she had.