11. Wilder

Chapter 11

Wilder

THE HELLHOUND

I release a low whistle, craning my neck to see down the endless spiraling staircase hidden behind the wall.

Which opened because of a painting. Jesus, these colonial fuckers were creative.

"Maverick found this place, too?" I ask.

"Apparently." Kaspian parts our rapt cluster and starts his way down, no hesitation.

I step aside, inviting Elara to go next, ignoring the thrum in my blood to go first. Even though I want to see it all first.

Kaspian may be in an epic bitchy mood, but his instincts are never dulled by emotion or injury. With him at the front and me protecting Elara's back, whatever else is in this hidey-hole won't have a chance to come at her.

I glance at Axe over my shoulder before entering behind Elara. He's focused on his phone, brows knitted and mouth tight.

"You okay?" I ask. "Who are you talking to?"

I'd caught a glimpse of a message screen before he subtly angled away.

"Cav." Axe shoves the phone into his back pocket. "He asked to be kept updated on everything we do today."

I nod. "Good call."

Axe gives me a half smile, his eyes darting away from mine and toward where Elara just faded to black. "After you."

I study him for a beat more, caught by the strange loop in my mind that keeps playing when Axe put his phone away and met my gaze.

Shrugging the strange feeling off, I step into the stairwell, my boots thudding on the worn stone treads as I descend. The air grows colder with each step, a damp chill that seeps through my jacket and raises the hair on my body. Elara's silhouette is just visible ahead, her slender form swallowed by the darkness. Her breathing echoes off the narrow walls, and I strain my ears for any sound that might signal an incoming threat. Kaspian has vanished, but I can hear his casual gait.

The four of us reach the bottom of the spiral staircase, emerging into a cavernous chamber that I cannot believe has been buried underground this whole time. Row upon row of bookshelves line up like neglected soldiers in front of me, their tops almost reaching the domed ceiling above, both blurred by black and dust.

Four blue-white spotlights arc over the shelving and forgotten debris strewn around the windowless stone cavern. Our phones' lights reveal the extent of the library's decay—tattered books lying scattered across the stone ground, their pages yellowed and brittle with age. Chunks of stone have fallen from the walls, cracking the cold gray floors.

Everywhere I look, I see the remnants of a once-grand collection. Broken sculptures, their features worn smooth by time; elegant furniture, now little more than kindling, haphazardly strewn about; and ornate globes on tarnished gold stands, their continents obscured by a century's worth of grime.

The intrusive thought wins.

I spin the closest globe, causing such a screech of unused mechanisms that even Kaspian's shoulders go tight.

Screws loosen, the globe wobbles and then falls off its stand and onto the floor with a crash that makes Elara wince.

"Wilder," Kaspian admonishes.

I slowly step away, hands up, and I don't hide my amusement when Elara gives me an embarrassed glance before heading to the row Kaspian walked into.

Fuck, she's cute when she's flustered.

Despite the icy chill wrapping around us, my blood heats at the sight of her. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted slightly. It's a sight that has me picturing her beneath me, pink for entirely different reasons.

Holding back a groan, I shake away those thoughts. Now is not the time.

Plunging my hands into my pockets, I saunter over to Elara. "Stay close."

I catch her by the arm to steer her into my side and away from any more potential mishaps, now that I'm being a good boy.

It's just my excuse to touch her, really. The feel of her skin against mine sparks my nerves in such a pleasant way. I haven't felt a zing like this since Tea?—

No. Nope. Not going there.

I press closer to Elara, my arm snaking around her waist. Her warmth seeps through my motorcycle jacket, chasing away the subterranean chill. I don't question the ease in which she leans into me, too. Last night was surprising, eye-opening, and one I will never forget as long as I breathe.

The shape of her body on Cav, the way she slid onto his dick and fucked him back to sanity—by god, I can't wait to go insane.

But even without fucking her, I felt Elara, like she was a part of us now, giving herself fully not only to Cav but to us. I was the one who stared into her eyes while she shattered. I'm the one who got to scrape his teeth across her pulse when she screamed.

She gave herself to me as much as she did Cav. And for that, she's not his. She's ours.

The thought triggers an alpha need. I want to claim her right here, scattering dust and bringing this grand library into the now, reminding it that it exists through Elara's cries. I'll mark every inch of her skin, starting with that full lower lip of hers, and make her beg and crawl for my cock.

Fuck, that image alone rouses an urgent hunger.

I clear my throat, fingers spasming before I force my grip to loosen on her waist.

Kaspian's footsteps echo off the towering shelves as he weaves between them, scanning the spines with a critical eye.

Axe hangs behind, his gaze still fixed on his phone. His thumb taps the screen, checking for a signal.

"Anything interesting?" I call out to Kaspian, my voice reverberating in the cavernous space.

We reach the center of the room, where a massive oak table dominates. Its surface is strewn with yellowed maps and crumbling scrolls. I lean in to examine one of them.

"This is about where I found Maverick's flash drive," Kaspian says, pointing at a piece of yellowed parchment. "First, I found his name on that list right there. Past initiates dating back to the Cimmerian Court's founding."

I whistle and tuck my hands back in my pockets. "Not so forgotten, then."

Kaspian makes a low noise of agreement. "Someone is using this room. Whether it's for good or evil is up to us to decide. I haven't had a chance to return since first discovering the place, so now's as good a time as any to search for anything pointing at who that someone is, or hell, even finding the other half of the Heart. Maverick could've stashed it here, too."

Elara's jaw tightens at the mention of her brother's name. Not that it was said, but the way in which Kaspian voiced it.

Emotionless. Cold. Almost bone-chillingly bored.

I catch her eye and give her a sympathetic wince. Welcome to the club. Kaspian would treat a fluffy kitten the same way.

I turn back to Kaspian. "You said someone."

Kasp arches a brow at me. "And?"

"Why not someone s ? How are you so certain it's only one person?"

It's for an eighth of a second, but a muscle in Kaspian's jaw pops out at the question. Then his face smooths, and he quickly answers, "You're right. It could be multiple people."

"Like the three Sovereigns?" Elara asks, oblivious to Kaspian's almost imperceptible tells.

Kaspian indicates that it's possible by waving a hand. Elara launches into further questions, focusing on where Kaspian found the flash drive (under a hideous golden raven statue) and what it contained.

While Kaspian deigns to answer, I scrutinize him closer.

That's two brothers now who I think are holding something back. Because I can bet you that Axe is up to something, and also wager that for whatever reason, Kaspian is keeping his certainty that only one person has breached this room close to his chest.

I can't remember the last time I was suspicious of one of my brothers. We've gone through hell together—through fires so hot that our souls were forged into molten metal. And we didn't emerge until every last one of us was out.

I search Kaspian's gaze for any hint of deception, but he remains impassive, a mask of cool indifference.

Elara purses her lips at Kaspian's non-answers to her questions. I can't blame her. We're three predators in one room, and she's the delicate deer caught in between.

She asks, "Could it be the same person who killed my brother?"

I catch her chin gently between my fingers. She looks up at me with those fearfully innocent eyes; so poignant and irresistible. I also see the hope burning there.

It's then I know I'll rip this library to shreds if it means finding her brother's killer for her.

I have to rein in the surprising emotion by blinking it back. There's no room for softness in this body.

Squeezing her jaw tighter, I grin. "Only one way to find out."

Elara sucks in a breath when I release her as fast as I caught her, snatching up a large square of yellowed parchment from the table and filled with symbols and diagrams, ignoring Kaspian's hiss of protest. Dust billows as I shake it out, ancient grit raining down.

I pull it closer, scrutinizing the faded lines. Something clicks in my mind. "That's the original sigil of the Cimmerian Court."

Elara, recovering faster than I gave her credit for, peers around my arm. "A flower?"

"A nightshade, specifically."

Elara's brows come together at the same time Axe pockets his phone, joining us at the table. He says, "Cav's family helped start this society. It was small then, limited to four original families of Titan Falls. When it grew, gaining power, influence, and reach outside this town, the founding families lost their iron grip on the Court and its rules. The sigil was changed to what it is now—the profile of a skull facing left with a celestial crown formed by two crescent moons—in the 1950s."

"To Nightshade's credit, they held on to it like a lady clutching her pearls for a good hundred years," I add.

Elara thinks this over, her nose scrunching and bringing her freckles closer together as she thinks. "Are you saying the Cimmerian Court started out … nice?"

Kaspian barks out a laugh, jarring in such a stifled room, but no less disturbing. "No. We were always ruthless and chose violence over friendly negotiation. It just became more brutal."

"That's what happens when you breed your own manner of beasts," Axe murmurs.

We fall into contemplative silence.

I flatten the map on the table, redirecting everyone's attention to our very pressing issue in the present, not the past. "Look at these markings. I think this is the layout of the library itself."

Kaspian is the first to snap to attention. He races a fingertip over a series of interconnected circles. "Then this must represent hidden chambers. Rooms we haven't found yet. Interesting, considering the last person rifling through these maps was Maverick, and he left this on top."

Excitement sizzles through my veins, hot and electric. The promise of more answers to uncover, of lost knowledge waiting to be rediscovered. My fingers twitch with the urge to pick this place apart stone by stone.

Axe shakes his head. "Either Maverick or whoever else uses this place. Kaspian is right. We can't assume we're the only ones who have access."

Elara glances up at me, her eyes almost golden in the gloom. "Then we have to find the other half of the Heart first. Maverick could've put it in one of these rooms and left this as a clue."

"Or a trap," Kaspian points out.

I shrug. "Does it matter? We're trampling through, anyway." Jerking my chin at a towering bookcase along the far wall, I add, "According to this map, one entrance is behind that bookshelf. Help me move it."

Axe and I throw our weight against the shelf, muscles straining as we inch it aside. Stone grinds against stone, a teeth- rattling screech that pierces through my skin and ricochets off my bones.

As the bookcase scrapes out of the way, stale air gusts out of a person-sized hole in the wall, reeking of mold and decay.

Kaspian produces a flashlight and aims it into the opening. The beam illuminates a narrow passageway, the walls glistening with moisture and crawling with pale roots.

I shoot Elara a shameless grin over my shoulder. "Ladies first."

She pulls her lips in, gnawing on them before she squeezes past me, her hips grazing mine in a way that sends fire licking at my dick. I bite back a groan at the same time Axe sends me a damning look.

Fuck.

I was too distracted by her ass to realize?—

"I didn't expect her to actually go first," I say to Axe's receding back as he shoots forward to catch up to her.

Only to catch a line of fire come back my way.