Page 43 of Shattered Jewel

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Chapter 11

Wilder

THE HELLHOUND

Irelease 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.”