Blake pushed open a heavy wooden door I hadn’t even noticed before, slipping inside without hesitation. I stood there, frozen in place, caught between two equally terrifying urges: follow her, or run. Run before I got dragged any deeper into whatever she was pulling me into. But the thought of being left behind in this strange, surreal place made my stomach churn, and the cold fingers of fear gripped me tight. My feet moved before I could think, carrying me through the door after her.

I stepped inside and immediately felt my breath catch in my throat. The room was unlike anything I’d ever seen. The sheer scale of it overwhelmed me, towering bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling, their tops vanishing into the shadows far above. Books floated gently through the air, carried by shimmering tendrils of magic, gliding in and out of the shelves as if they had a life of their own. The air was thick with the scent of ancient paper, ink, and something else—something sweet and elusive, like the memory of a dream just out of reach.

My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of awe and unease churning inside me. Then I saw the women. Fox-eared, fox-tailed, their movements graceful and deliberate. They weaved between the shelves, each one carrying a stack of books with an almost mechanical precision. It was surreal, like I had wandered into some ancient myth, too fantastical to be real.

“What is this place?” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to Blake, awe thick in my voice. “Who are these people?”

Blake didn’t answer right away, her eyes sharp and focused as if she knew this place all too well. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pulled toward something—something at the center of the room. It was calling to me, pulling me deeper, whispering that I was meant to be here.

Before I could dwell on it further, a fox-eared woman approached us. Her steps were light but purposeful, and her amber eyes flicked between me and Blake, narrowing ever so slightly, as if sizing us up.

“Hullo, Mr. Argent. Hullo, Ms. Saudade,” she said, her voice steady but laced with something I couldn’t quite place—suspicion, maybe? Or a warning, veiled beneath politeness? Her ears twitched, and I felt a chill creep up my spine. Whatever message she was trying to convey went right over my head, but Blake seemed to catch it instantly.

“We need two books dedicated to assassination worlds and two for a nice, quiet mountain lake,” Blake said smoothly, no hesitation in her voice. No doubt, either. She spoke as if she belonged here, like she knew exactly what to ask for, and it only made me feel more out of my depth. Who is she? I wondered, watching her take control with practiced ease. How does she know so much?

The fox-woman gave a small nod, her expression unreadable. “Certainly, young ones. Wait here, and do not touch a thing.” With that, she disappeared into the maze of shelves, her tail swishing behind her like a warning not to follow.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and sank into a nearby chair, my legs suddenly feeling weak. The awe I’d felt moments ago was starting to fade, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. What is this place? I asked myself again. And what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?

I was still lost in thought when I noticed Blake darting over to a pile of books on a table. My heart skipped a beat as I watched her casually slip one of the books into her inventory, her movements quick and practiced. There was no hesitation in her actions, no second thoughts. She’d done this before.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, panic threading through my voice. My chest tightened as the consequences of her actions hit me all at once. What if we’re caught? What if this whole place is some kind of trap? I thought of all the stories I’d heard—magical libraries guarded by ancient forces, archives where stealing so much as a single page could lead to curses, or worse.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Blake returned to my side, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “Just being thorough,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with something that sent a chill down my spine. Was it excitement? Or something darker? “We can’t always rely on people to give us what we need.”

I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my gut. “Blake, this is reckless,” I whispered, urgency sharpening my words. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. You’re going to get us in trouble.” But even as I said it, the words felt hollow.

"Correction, you don't know what were dealing with."

The fear twisting inside me wasn’t just about getting caught. It was about her—the way she made everything else feel distant, irrelevant. How I couldn’t seem to pull away, no matter how loud my instincts screamed at me to run.

She gave me a wink, brushing off my concern like it was nothing. “Relax,” she said, her voice smooth, playful. “I’ve got this under control.”

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the growing dread gnawing at me. Blake was pulling me deeper into something I didn’t understand. And the worst part? I didn’t know if I even wanted to pull away.

As soon as this is over, I need to get away from her, I thought, the realization settling in like a cold weight in my chest. But could I? She knew things I didn’t. She understood this world in ways I couldn’t even begin to grasp. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was just too scared to see the bigger picture.

Before I could untangle the mess of thoughts swirling in my head, the fox-woman returned, carrying four books. I forced myself to focus, pushing everything else aside. We needed to get out of here, and we needed to do it without drawing any more attention.

We retraced our steps back to the entrance, but the moment we stepped into the final corridor, a cold dread gripped me. Something was wrong. The air was thick, heavy with a horrible smell I couldn't place.

Then I saw it—the flames.

The scene before us was a nightmare. Fire licked the walls, scorching everything in its path, the acrid stench of burning flesh filling the air. Screams—raw and guttural—pierced through the chaos, a horrifying reminder of how quickly everything could spiral out of control.

Blake’s face, usually calm and confident, now twisted with fear. Real, unfiltered fear. My stomach dropped. This wasn’t a game anymore. We weren’t sneaking around or outwitting some giant bird. This was life or death.

“Save the books!” The Protector's voice rang out, desperate and strained. His foxes were already in motion, darting through the chaos, trying to salvage what they could.

But the Flame Eaters were relentless. They reveled in the destruction, laughing maniacally as they hurled fire spells with reckless abandon. Their hands were charred, blistered from their own magic, but they didn’t care. They were drunk on the chaos, their eyes wild with a twisted joy.

And we were trapped in the middle of it all.

Blake’s hand gripped mine, pulling me forward. “Run!” she shouted. This time, I didn’t hesitate.

We ran, the smell of burning flesh and the crackle of flames chasing us down the corridor, every step pushing us closer to whatever fate awaited us on the other side.

Blake grabbed my arm, yanking me to the side and pulling me down a narrow hallway. The heat from the flames licked at our backs, the roar of the inferno growing louder with every passing second. My breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale heavy with the acrid stench of smoke. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating me as we fled deeper into the unknown.

We’re not getting out of this alive. The thought surged through my mind like a curse, but I swallowed it down. Blake was leading, and I was following. Always following.

“Ready to make enemies on both sides?” she asked, dropping my hand as she stopped abruptly. Her eyes flickered to her hand for a moment, as if contemplating the weight of her next move, before turning her gaze back to me.