Chapter 50
Dante’s POV
The elevator doors opened, and my brow furrowed as I took in the sight of a massive steel door blocking the way. It was a peculiar setup, out of place even in a building as old and fortified as the Silver Claw packhouse.
Raiden stepped forward, his fingers brushing over an almost imperceptible button near the corner of the elevator frame.
A faint beep followed as he entered a code, his movements practiced and deliberate.
“How many lies have you fed us exactly?” I asked, my voice dry but edged with genuine curiosity.
Raiden chuckled, his gaze lifting to meet mine. His expression field the faintest glimmer of amusement, though his usual stoicism remained intact.
I stood taller than him now–had for years. At six–foot–five, I loomed over most people, including my father. Yet Raiden had always carried an unshakable presence, his posture and sheer willpower making him seem larger than life.
Only now, as I watched him, did I notice the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the streaks of silver overtaking his hair, the slight bend in his once–unyielding frame.
A pang of something bittersweet struck me. Time had touched him, as it touched everything. And there it was again–that nagging feeling, like sand slipping through my fingers.
“You think too highly of me, son,” he finally said, his tone light.
My lips quirked up, though my chest felt right.
The steel door unlocked with a hiss, revealing the space beyond stepped forward, but my expression turned into a puzzled frown as the room came into view.
“A library?”
Raiden walked in ahead of me, his boots echoing on the marble floor. Dust hung thick in the air, swirling in lazy patterns as we disturbed the long–settled stillness. My nose twitched, and I coughed against the dry mustiness.
“This is what all of this was hiding?” I asked, incredulous.
Raiden didn’t answer immediately. He moved further into the space, his fingers trailing along the spines of books old their titles were nearly illegible. Then he stopped and pushed against a towering shelf.
The bookshelf creaked, swinging open to reveal another seemingly normal hidden door. This time he inserted the key that he had brought. The door opened with a click, and I stared at the new chamber.
“What is this, a maze?” I muttered, following him.
But what I saw made me freeze. The new space was breathtaking.
Well not literally. The smell was awful.
The scent of burnt smoke hit me immediately, sharp and overwhelming, but I pushed past it. The circular room beyond was something out of a dream–or a fairytale.
A massive golden–and–crystal orb dominated the center, rotating slowly like a hamster wheel, refracting light into brilliant, scattered rainbows. The faint melody of a lullaby filled the air, a une that tugged at the edges of memory.
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“Is that… Mother’s lullaby?”
Raiden nodded. “It’s a tune passed down to everyone in the dragon bloodline.”
1 stared at the room, my thoughts swirling. “You built all of this for her?”
Raiden’s voice softened. “To keep the remains of her origins safe He moved forwards, his finger leisurely touching the books on the shelves. A hint of nostalgia in his gaze.
I couldn’t help but feel the familiar pang of melancholy. This whole space reminded me of mom. It had been a long time since I had gotten used to her absence. Though that didn’t mean it hurt any less to know she wasn’t there anymore.
Especially knowing how she died. I clenched my lists, Mom was dad’s mate. I couldn’t help but imagine how I’d feel if Valencia did the same thing.
Would I survive it? Could I be as strong as dad! My chest felt tight again.
I took in the intricate carvings, the shimmering fabrics, resonating in the hall.
the rows upon rows of books and the melody that kept softly
I shook the thoughts of mom away for now. I needed to focus on what I could do now instead of what I should have done
before.
“But isn’t all this security kind of overkill?” I asked
Raiden turned, his gaze steady. Look around. You might find the answers you seek. Take the day off. I’ll handle pack matters for now. Caius will be leaving for Velhaven in two hours.”
I frowned. “Caius? Isn’t he too young for that?”
“He’s twenty now. You started working with me at fifteen,” Raiden said, his tone calm but firm. “And you’ve noticed, haven’t you? He’s been different lately. More focused. It’s time.”
I considered his words before nodding reluctantly, “Fine. But if anything goes wrong, you’ll call me immediately.”
Raiden smiled. “Understood
He left me there in the strange, magical space, surrounded by the weight of untold history.
I began exploring the library, scanning the spines of ancient tornes and pulling out anything that seemed relent. Most were historical accounts, detailing the rise and fall of civilizations, battles, and alliances. But scattered among them were books that delved into the origins of dragons.
According to these texts, dragons were born from the tears of the Sun Goddess herself. Her fiery sorrow fell to Earth, creating the first creatures to ever walk the land.
At first, there were only two dragons, who multiplied over time. They lived as immortal beings, free from the need for
sustenance or rest.
But as the world became populated with other creatures–wolves, witches, vampires, mermaids, and other creatures I hadn’t even heard of–the dragons began to change. They grew possessive, hoarding lands, jewels, and even their offspring.
Their greed brought about a curse–or so they believed. A phenomenon they called “Hunger” emerged, stripping them of their immortality. They began to need food, sleep, and protection from the elements.
To appease the Sun Goddess, the dragons turned to sacrifices, offering their mates as penance in hopes of regaining favor.
I frowned. Offering up their own mates? Was that something dragons were capable of? This whole text seemed unreal,
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Chapter 50
especially knowing the kind of attachment I felt towards Valencia. The idea was absurd, but somehow felt important.
The texts ended abruptly there, leaving me with more questions than answers.
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I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I glanced at the row of untouched books. I’d barely scratched the surface of the knowledge stored here. There were hundreds–no, thousand–of volumes, and only one of me.
The bond between Valencia and me pulsed faintly, a gentle reminder of her presence. I could feel her and Castor, their emotions brushing against mine like a soft melody.
It was noon and time to go back.
Descending the elevator, I mulled over everything I’d read. The story of the dragons–their rise, their fall, and their desperate attempts at redemption–felt familiar for some reason
Had I read the book before?
I didn’t pay mush mind to that but for some reason my instincts told me I didn’t have much time.
The answers were here, somewhere in that labyrinth of books. just had to find them before it was too late.
