Library

4. Xavier

Chapter 4

Xavier

O nce night completely fell, my body slowly reanimated. I stretched carefully, feeling the stone that encapsulated my muscles and bone dissipate and be replaced by flesh. My skin kept the grayish cast that I maintained from the stone during the day, but it was warmer, more supple, if still rough. I worked through the gentle stretching exercises and yoga poses that Evinara from the Twilight Tree yoga studio had taught me several years ago when I mentioned struggling with the transition from stone to flesh. As the years went on without finding a mate, the shift between forms was harder and longer, and I wondered how much longer I had before I was frozen on the top of the library.

The tug in my chest intensified, and I stretched my wings out, letting them gently lower me to the ground, instead of taking the long way down, via the interior back stairs. I scanned Main Street, the darkened storefronts, noting the ones that remained open for the nocturnal inhabitants. I searched inside myself for the thread that had anchored itself inside of me and turned back to the library, my home for many long years. She was there. Inside. My possible mate. I scarcely dared to hope. After all these long years, could it be?

Instead of heading into town for dinner, I was drawn into the library. Not unusual since I was its guardian, but food held little appeal when I suspected my mate was inside. I opened the huge, solid wood double doors and let my eyes adjust to the bright lights. My eyes, my entire being, focused on the new human in town, one of the very few who remained after the curse.

Someone else might have found her unremarkable, but she was beautiful to my eyes. Her red hair was long and thick and pulled back at the nape of her neck. She was tall, but not at tall as I was, curvy in all the right places, her breasts the perfect handful for me. Her hips were gently rounded, and I could imagine holding them as I pounded into her from behind or between her thighs.

She could easily handle a gargoyle and my strength, not someone with whom I would need to be careful, which was good for me, because when the mating frenzy came over me, I might not be as careful as I should be. Her hazel eyes settled on me and awareness flared in them. Her mouth opened slightly, then her attention was pulled away by Helena Deveraux, the vampire who always pushed the limits of everyone she came across, testing them. I debated stepping in, but wasn't ready to expose who the female might be to me, especially to Helena, who was far too perceptive.

I grabbed a book from the spotlight section, not that we've added any new books in years, and sat in the reading area, the book in my hands nothing more than a prop. I had read almost every book in the library, some more than once, but I wasn't here to read. I was completely focused on her— Amber, the new librarian, as I overheard Helena call her. She moved like a dancer. Her smile was a beacon of warmth in this cold existence I'd endured for so long. She greeted patrons and spoke kindly to everyone.

The pull towards her was undeniable, unlike anything I'd felt in my centuries of life. Could it truly be a mating bond? The very thought sent a thrill of hope through me, quickly followed by a wave of fear. Hope was dangerous here in Beastly Falls. Hope could break you.

I watched sharply as she interacted with Helena. Helena was accustomed to being the center of attention wherever she went. Yet she too was feeling the pinch of loneliness, having not found her mate among the residents of the town. She easily found companionship and blood donors as needed, but nothing replaced the bond of a mate, the close ties, the connection we all longed for. Yet, even faced with Helena's intimidating presence, Amber held her ground, offering book recommendations with genuine enthusiasm, not realizing that most of us were tired of the same old books and were unfamiliar with the titles or authors she spoke of, since nothing new had come into our town since the curse took effect.

Amber's gentleness called to something deep within me. But I remain rooted to my chair, unable to approach. Fear held me back. The curse had taken so much from us already. If I was wrong about this feeling, if she rejected me, I wasn't sure I could bear it.

The chair beside me scraped against the floor as Rook Mullein, a vampire and my closest friend, sat down. His eyes followed my gaze to Amber.

"So," he said quietly, "that's her, isn't it? The one you sensed entering town?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice .

Rook leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "You think it might be a mating bond?"

"I don't know," I admitted, the words heavy with frustration and longing. "It feels different. Powerful. But after all this time, how can I be sure?"

"The curse has been weakening," Rook mused. "It happened to me only a couple of weeks ago, when I met my Jenny. Maybe it's your turn."

I shifted in my seat to face him, the lumpy chair groaning under my weight, seeing my own conflicted emotions mirrored in his eyes. "And if it's not? If I'm just grasping at false hope?"

Rook sighed, running a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. "Then you go on as you have been. But Xavier, at some point, you have to take the risk. If there's even a chance of breaking this curse, of finding your mate, trust me, it's worth it."

"The fall will be that much harder if I'm wrong," I countered.

Rook had found his mate, in the edgy and bright Jenny Cortado, when her car had broken down in town a few weeks ago. She had not been able to leave once she entered the town. And when the mating bond had initiated, she could have doomed my friend to a half-life and eventual death if she had rejected the bond. But she hadn't. She accepted the bond and him. It saved him, broken his curse. And because of it, he could walk during the day and sustain himself on only Jenny's blood. I had watched him suffer, agonizing if she could accept him. Could I take the same risk?

We sat in silence for a moment, watching as Amber cheerfully helped another patron. Her laughter carried across the library, and it resonated in my chest .

"She's human," I mumbled. "Even if the bond is real, how could she ever accept someone like me? A monster who turns to stone by day? And will she even want to stay?"

Rook placed a hand on my shoulder. "You're not a monster, Xavier. And if she's truly your mate, she'll see that too. But you'll never know if you don't take that first step. She could be your salvation, breaking your curse."

I nodded, knowing he's right but still hesitating. The weight of centuries of loneliness and the fear of rejection warred within me.

As if sensing my gaze, Amber looked up, her eyes meeting mine across the room. For a moment, just a heartbeat, something flickered in her expression, maybe even a hint of the same longing I feel.

"Go talk to her," Rook urged gently.

I sucked in a deep breath, steeling myself. "Tomorrow," I promised, both to Rook and myself. "I'll approach her tomorrow."

Rook eyed me reproachfully and opened his book. Feeling the weight of his expectation, like so many others in town hoping for their mate, I turned back to Amber. And I allowed myself to hope, just a little, that maybe—just maybe—our curse is finally nearing its end.

H eart pounding, I rose from my seat, intending to exit quietly. But my departure was interrupted by the library door flinging open. A disheveled male stumbled in, his eyes wild and unfocused. I narrowed my gaze at him and realized he was one of the troll brothers from the bridge. They were not known for being the most intelligent of beings, but they rarely strayed from their bridge and were generally amiable, though they could be stubborn. When he focused on Amber, I sensed there was about to be trouble.

He advanced on the circulation desk where Amber was standing, her eyes wide and uncertain. The troll, I wasn't sure which brother it was since they looked alike, planted his hands on the desk. "I'm Jabir. My brothers and I need a mate. You be our mate?"

Amber stepped back, the scent of fear growing. Without thinking, I slid between them, spreading my wings to shield Amber, pushing Jabir back, creating a barrier between her and the troll. "She is not for you or your brothers, Jabir," I said firmly, my voice low and menacing. My wings widened further, the claws on the tips extending, ready if he attempted to force his way through me. An urge to rend him limb from limb if he touched her possessed me, a desire to protect Amber at all costs, riding me hard.

Jabir blinked, seeming to consider his next thoughts, as if sensing my rage. But he set his jaw. "We need a mate. She is new to town. Must be a mate."

Trolls might be thick-headed, but they certainly weren't stupid. I understood his desire for a mate, the desperation that rode him. It drove me, too. So, I throttled back my anger and repeated my words. "She is not your mate, Jabir." I leveled a hard stare at him, folding my arms in front of me and letting my wings flare out to their full extent, hiding Amber and the desk from his view, hopefully discouraging him.

He considered me as a potential adversary for a mate. I saw his consideration in his eyes, wondering if he could take me on and win. A part of me hoped he wouldn't create more of a scene than he already had, but the inner beast in me wanted to show off for my mate. Finally, he muttered a half-assed apology and retreated hastily, leaving the library with a bang of the door.

I turned to Amber, her fear still scenting the air, worried I'd frightened her further. While fear still lurked there, I also saw gratitude.

"Thank you for your help," she said softly. "I'm still adjusting to the town. He was scary."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. A powerful urge to pull her close, to protect her from all harm, that almost swamped me, but I couldn't risk it. Not yet.

"He was just hoping you were his mate. Next time, just be firm and tell him to back off."

Her eyes widened. "Next time?"

I didn't have the heart to tell her that this might be a regular occurrence until everyone found out she was my mate. The mating bond urged me to mark her so everyone knew she was mine, but I knew it was too soon. She still had remnants of fear in her eyes. Whether it was from Jabir or something else, I wasn't sure. But I sensed I had to tread lightly. Only, I didn't have much time to ease her into the reality of our connection.

"Don't worry. Almost everyone will be a bit more kind in their approach," I reassured her, even as I vowed to do my best to watch out for her. When I could, that is.

"Thanks. That's good to know." She hesitated, her hand on a stack of books. "I should probably get back to work."

I knew I should walk away, avoid any disappointment, but with Rook's encouragement echoing in my mind, I remained standing at the desk, where Amber sorted through a stack of returned books.

"Maybe you can help me," I said, my voice rougher than intended as I stepped closer.

Amber lifted her head, her eyes widening as she realized I had moved closer, my size making me almost loom over her. For a moment, fear flashed across her face again, and anger burned within me. Who put that fear there? Who dared to hurt her? A surge of protective rage coursed through my veins, and I consciously had to relax my clenched fists, lower my raised wings that had extended in preparation for a battle.

"I'm sorry," I made my voice soften, though it was difficult, and I took a deliberate step back. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm Xavier."

Tension eased from her shoulders, though wariness still lingered in her eyes. "Amber," she replied, a tentative smile on her face. "Is there something I can help you find?"

I leaned in slightly, unable to help myself, trying to catch a whiff of her scent. "Who made you afraid?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Amber stiffened again, her smile forced, though alarm flashed through her eyes. "I'm not sure what you mean. Now, about that book?"

I recognized the deflection for what it was and reluctantly let it go. For now. "Actually, I was hoping you could recommend a book for me to read. I've heard you have quite the passion for books. It would be a pleasure to talk books with someone new."

Her face lit up, and the sight stole my breath away. "Oh! Well, in that case, what's your favorite genre?"

"I prefer the classics, but am open to all kinds of literature." I didn't want to tell her that I had read just about everything in the library over the past couple of decades, except for certain genres. "What's your favorite book?"

She blushed faintly, the color highlighting her cheeks. "I love to read romance, but I didn't see a lot of them on the shelves, at least not the more recent titles. But, I also love the classics. I read Pride and Prejudice every year."

I didn't want to insult Amber's taste in books, but romance was the one area I hadn't read. I had avoided the genre, not wanting to even consider romance in my future, though I had never been drawn to reading them. I preferred the works of Homer, Chaucer, Milton, but I felt that might be too pretentious, as Rook often accused me of being. But the passion that Amber began speaking of her favorite books was infectious, and I wondered if I should broaden my horizons.

Suddenly, I realized she'd stopped speaking and was looking at me expectantly. "I haven't read them," I was forced to admit.

Disappointment shadowed her expression. "I understand. Not many men like romances."

"Maybe you can recommend one for me," I asked, hating the tone of disappointment in her voice.

"If I can find it! Your library is laid out a little differently than I am used to. Pride and Prejudice might be a good one for you," she smiled.

"I can help you find it," I offered.

"Great and maybe you can show me something you like to read."

"Deal."

I lead her to the classical literature section, housed under the Old Tomes of Ancient Times, and handed her my prized possession. A rare first edition of ‘ Paradise Lost ' by John Milton.

"This is incredible," she breathed, handling the slim volume delicately. "I've never seen anything like it. I can't believe you have this here and not in a private collection somewhere more protected. "

"Anya is a talented archivist. What about you?" I asked, genuinely curious. "What draws you to the romance genre?"

Amber sighed. "I suppose I love the idea of finding the one person who is perfect for you, but it's more than that. I love the themes of social class and the whole cultural themes they leverage in their books. Maybe that's why I love reading historical romance. The regency era and the social class hierarchy, forbidden love between people who cannot be together but love each other, is catnip to me."

"Don't let Anya hear that or she'll get excited," I teased. Amber cocked her head at me, clearly not understanding me. "Anya is a cat shifter. Catnip means something else to her."

Amber's eyes widened for a moment, then she let out a laugh that was like music to my ears. "I'll remember that."

She reached for a volume on a higher shelf, stretching on tiptoes to get to it, but didn't quite get there. I easily plucked the volume from the top shelf, our hands brushing. The contact sent a jolt through me, and Amber's breath caught. For a moment, we froze, the air between us charged with tension.

She smiled, glanced down, and gestured to the book. "You should read Pride and Prejudice. It's a wonderful story. I envy Elizabeth with her insistence on marrying for love, even though it goes against the culture of the time. She also refuses to accept Darcy's proposal, even though it would help her family financially, and she waits for his declaration of love. She won't accept anything less than his honesty. She's so brave. I wish I could be that brave, sometimes."

The bell dinged at the front desk, and she jolted. "I'm sorry. I should really get back to the desk. "

"Of course. I'm sorry I monopolized so much of your time," I replied. "But perhaps we could continue our discussion another time?"

She gave me a brilliant smile this time, and it was like the sun breaking through clouds. "I'd like that."

As I reluctantly turned to leave, I felt that something has shifted. The mating bond, if that's truly what this was, pulsed stronger than ever.

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