Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

MERCY

M ercy stirred from her uncomfortable position, slumped over the table deep in the archives of the old library. The scent of aged paper and leather surrounded her, but her neck ached from the awkward angle she'd fallen asleep in. She winced, her hand instinctively going to the knot that had formed at the base of her skull. How long have I been out?

Blinking against the dim light of the reading lamp, she took a moment to orient herself. The stone walls around her stood silent and watchful, the towering bookshelves casting long shadows across the floor. The room was cold, and the silence felt… different. Heavy.

Before she even looked up, she knew. She wasn't alone.

Slowly, Mercy's gaze traveled from the table in front of her to the edge of the row, where the shadows bled into the dim light. There, leaning against the stacks, stood a man—naked and bleeding. His dark hair was slicked with the rain from outside. Curiously, his muscular chest didn't seem to be rising or falling. Beside him, slumped in a half-conscious state, was a woman, her head lolled to one side. She looked barely alive.

Mercy's heart skipped a beat. What the hell?

Her chair screeched loudly against the stone floor as she pushed it back, the sound grating in the tense silence. She rose slowly, her eyes fixed on the man. Recognition hit her in an instant. It was him. The falcon from earlier—the one she'd felt drawn to, if only for a moment, before she'd fled. But now, standing here in the flesh, there was something undeniably different about him.

Hunter.

His name filtered through her mind as she took him in. He wasn't just a shifter. That much was clear. There was a darkness to him, an aura that whispered of something ancient, something dangerous. And yet, despite the fear that twisted in her gut, there was something else—an inexplicable pull, something she couldn't explain.

The woman at his side was also a shifter, but her essence was so faint, it was almost as if her other side had been erased. Mercy's chest tightened with unease. That was her gift, her ability to sense and identify the supernatural with pinpoint accuracy. And yet, she couldn't figure out what the woman truly was. How is that even possible?

"You're bleeding," Mercy said, her voice cutting through the thick silence, eyes flicking to Hunter's wounds. They were deep, vicious, as if he'd barely survived an attack.

Hunter's dark, piercing eyes met hers, and for the first time, there was no trace of the arrogance he'd shown earlier. He looked… wounded. Vulnerable, even. But behind the pain, there was still that intense presence that drew her in like gravity.

"I was… involved in an altercation," Hunter rasped, his voice hoarse. "A rescue mission, as it were."

"Sit down," Mercy interrupted, her instincts taking over as she moved closer, gesturing to a chair. "You need help, both of you. You're in no condition to be going anywhere."

Hunter shook his head, his body trembling as he lowered the woman onto a chair. His hands were unsteady as he carefully laid her down, her limp form barely moving. "I wasn't finished. I need to get back."

Mercy frowned, stepping toward him. "You're not going anywhere like this. Besides, you don't just show up at the village library and dump off some half-dead woman."

"I'm not half-dead," the woman whispered.

"Of course not," said Mercy. "But my guess is you've had better days."

She glanced down at the woman. Her pulse was weak, her breathing shallow, and there was something not quite right about her either. Who are these people?

Hunter took a few shaky steps toward the door, refusing to listen to reason, but the strength in his legs gave way. Swell. Now, I have two half-dead people. He collapsed to the floor, his body hitting the stone with a thud that reverberated through the room.

"Damn it!" Mercy dropped to her knees beside him, her fingers instantly going to his throat to check for a pulse. His skin was cold— unnaturally cold. She froze. The strange aura she'd sensed earlier clicked into place, and a wave of shock rolled through her.

Holy shit. Hunter wasn't just a shifter; he was a vampire.

Her stomach twisted violently. She had always hated vampires. Their predatory nature, their cold, lifeless existence, everything about them rubbed her the wrong way. But here he was, this shifter-turned-vampire, lying unconscious at her feet after having just saved this not-quite-right female shifter.

Mercy's heart pounded as she placed the back of her hand against Hunter's forehead, confirming the unnatural chill to his skin. She cursed under her breath. Despite her hatred, she couldn't just leave him here. He'd saved someone, and from the look of it, he'd paid a steep price.

Mercy took a deep breath, steeling herself, and fished her phone out of her pocket as Hunter's eyes fluttered open. There was only one person she could call.

"Brie, it's Mercy. I need you to come to the library. Quickly," she said, her voice low and urgent. "There's a woman; she needs help. It's… complicated. Bring Colby and whoever else you can."

"Mercy, such a pretty name," Hunter rumbled before passing out.

Within short order, Brie and Colby arrived, accompanied by two other members of Colby's clan. They entered the library quietly, their eyes immediately drawn to the scene before them. Colby, ever the joker, raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight of Hunter slumped on the floor.

"Well, well. Isn't this a lovely surprise," he said with a somewhat malevolent smile. "You brought home a vampire, Mercy. That complicates things."

Brie knelt beside Hunter, her keen eyes assessing his condition with a practiced ease. "He's definitely a vampire," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "What happened?"

Mercy shook her head, her gaze dropping to the unconscious man. "I don't know. He just showed up like this… bleeding, half-dead. He mentioned something about a rescue mission, but he collapsed before he could say much more."

One of the men who had accompanied them lifted the woman out of the chair and headed outside, to where two SUVs stood waiting.

Brie stood up; her expression thoughtful. "We'll take them to the abbey. They'll be safe there. Both of them need time to recover. Then we can figure out what happened."

Colby shot Mercy a teasing glance. "So, you going to come with us this time? We've been trying to get you to move in for ages."

Mercy crossed her arms, her expression hardening. "You know I work better alone."

Brie's eyes softened as she studied Mercy. "And yet, you stayed. You didn't leave him behind."

Mercy's chest tightened. She hadn't left. She couldn't. Despite everything in her that screamed to turn her back on Hunter and walk away, something deeper, more primal, kept her rooted to the spot. He's your fated mate, whispered a small inner voice.

The realization had hit her the moment she'd laid eyes on him again, and it terrified her. She didn't want this. Didn't want the connection, the bond that tied them together, but it was there, undeniable and persistent.

She glanced at Brie; her voice softer now. "I wanted to leave him. I really did. But I can't. He's… my fated mate."

Colby let out a low whistle, leaning against one of the stone walls. "Well, that changes things."

Brie studied her for a long moment before nodding. "We'll take care of him at the abbey. You're welcome to come by if and when you're ready."

Mercy gave a brief nod, her throat tight as she watched them lift Hunter's unconscious body from the floor and carry him out. She stayed behind, her mind racing. The sense of relief she expected never came. Instead, she felt strangely hollow, as though something essential had just been torn from her.

Her fingers itched to reach for the door, to follow them, but instead, she sank into the chair she'd been sleeping in earlier. This is what I wanted. To be alone. Not to be bound by anyone or anything.

She stayed there for a few minutes longer before finally dragging herself up and out of the library. She still had hours before work officially began, but she needed a shower, some fresh clothes, and at least a vat of coffee to keep her upright. As she drove through the still-silent streets of the village, the events of the night swirled in her mind. She felt stupid for falling asleep in the library, for letting her guard down in such a vulnerable place. But now, none of that seemed to matter.

When she finally returned to the library later the next morning, her heart sank. Hunter was gone. Of course, he was. They had taken him to the abbey, just as they said they would, but the sight of the empty space where his body had lain left her feeling strangely deflated.

Why do I care? The question echoed in her mind. She didn't want anything to do with him. She didn't need anyone. She liked being on her own, free and untethered. And yet…

She forced herself to get to work, slipping into her usual routine as patrons trickled in throughout the day. She greeted them with her usual polite smile, helping them find books, and recommending titles, but her mind wasn't in it. She felt restless, her fingers itching to take to the skies, to feel the wind under her wings and escape the strange sensation tightening her chest.

The humans who came into the library were kind enough, but they didn't really understand her. They never had. Even as a child, she had felt like an outsider, her abilities setting her apart in ways she could never explain to anyone. She remembered one woman, Mrs. Fenton, who had taken a liking to her as a child, always bringing her cookies and warm tea when she'd come to the library. But even she had sensed that Mercy was different. Odd. Not quite like the others.

She'd learned to hide it, of course. She didn't flaunt her abilities, didn't let on how much she knew about the world beneath the surface. But the feeling of being an oddity, of being someone who didn't quite fit, never left her. Even now, surrounded by familiar faces and comforting routines, she felt that gnawing sense of isolation.

The day dragged on, the hours ticking by as she helped patrons and cataloged returns. But her thoughts remained on Hunter. She couldn't help it. Every time she glanced at the clock, she found herself wondering how he was doing, how he was recovering. The curiosity gnawed at her despite her attempts to push it aside.

Finally, as the last patron left and the library grew still once more, she made a decision.

She would fly to the abbey. She needed to see him. To satisfy the growing urge that tugged at her with each passing hour.

By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, Mercy was already in the air, her silvery wings slicing through the cool evening breeze. She soared high above the village, the world falling away beneath her as she let the wind carry her toward the abbey.