I inhaled the smell of ink and paper and it was glorious.

The Crowthers' library was enormous. It was easily five times the size of my family library back home. The space of the library took up two levels of the Keep. The walls were lined with books, and there were so many, tall bookshelves had been set up in rows much like a mortal library. Up above were tapestries. The images on the time-aged textile were of our gods, places I didn't know, and battlefields. Perhaps the tapestries illustrated the Crowthers' history, captured by threads and stitching.

A great wall of stained glass was set into the upper level of the library's wall that faced the inner courtyard. I slowly turned around to gaze up in wonder at the massive mural made of glass. Opposing one another was the moon in a rich sky of violet that stretched across the pane where starlight met sunshine, and a vibrant sun rose at the other end of the mural. Mid-morning sunlight poured through and slanted downward, washing the floor in watercolors of buttery yellows and soft purples.

Surrounded by the familiar world of ancient tomes and modern books, I felt more settled at that moment than I had since I'd arrived on the Crowther estate.

Sage had stalked off, sniffing out the corners of the library, when suddenly I saw a cat perched on an armchair. Its fur hackled and its spine arched as it hissed and yowled to be discovered by the beast.

"Shit, Flossy," I heard behind me.

My wraith-wolf gave a delighted bark to find prey and give chase.

"Sage!" I cried, worried for Flossy as the wraith-wolf charged, his tail wagging and silver eyes bright.

But the cat leaped from the chair, darting past in a streak of ginger and cream. It wove through Graysen's legs, leaving fur on his dark jeans, as it escaped out the library door. Graysen quickly shut the door behind him. Sage scrambled to a halt. His claws grated along the stone floor as he came to an ungainly halt. He whined low, to be denied the chase.

I tsked him.

And he gave me a disappointed huff, before shaking his misty fur and prowling away.

My gaze darted to Graysen, flitting away before he met it. Cats. Somehow it seemed weird that the Crowthers had something as ordinary and sweet as cats.

Drifting deeper into the room, my bare feet padded across the sun-warmed stone that was age-worn and pockmarked. So ancient it heralded from another era, and I felt its power, a low vibration in my bones. My wyrm might be gone, but the adamere stone called out to me, singing a soft lullaby that wormed its way into my mind, whispering that we were cut from the same ilk.

I'd spent almost as much time in our family library as I had rambling through the woodlands. I'd whiled away my days between the folds of paper, squinting at lines of ink, slowly deciphering the old language as I tried to find any clue as to what I was or the locations of otherworldly creatures who might be able to tell me what was hidden inside me. I tried not to be too excited, or too obvious, as I skirted the room looking for the history of our world captured in tomes with gilded edges.

I needed to do some research. The Crowthers library was far older than my own. Their family line went back to the Final War, but I had a feeling that their lineage went back even further. I needed to find out as much as I could about our god Zrenyth and those weapons of his that he'd forged, and after he'd fallen into the Great Slumber had been later gifted to the Crowthers—like the rope around my neck and the wyrm-harpoons that had trapped my wyrm. And there just might be a way around the whole only a Crowther can take the rope off my neck bullshit.

There might even be blueprints of the Keep in here too, with all the concealed passageways. There was no way the Crowthers wouldn't have an escape route dug underground like our forefathers. This Keep was so ancient, there may be several.

Here I hoped to learn more about the wyrm and tamer aspect. This, what existed between Graysen and I, was unique. There'd never been a human and wyrm blending before. What kind of effect did it have on me as a human? And Graysen as a tamer? There had always been this strange drawing between us, a need to orbit one another like celestial beings, and despite my loathing for him, it was still there, tugging at me all the time.

As I walked between the long wooden tables that were set up with elegant reading lamps, I neared an enormous fireplace with a mantle, and a wyrm carved into the stone. Its scaled serpentine body curved possessively around the hearth, and I thought further about what I needed to unearth in the library. I had so many questions. Including the Alverac. Even if I got physically free from Graysen, would it mean that all he had to do was will me back? And would I return? Maybe here there'd be an answer to that without actually having to ask him. In some morbid way, I didn't actually didn't want to know. I was determined to break free from the Crowthers before my birthday, but if I discovered there was no hope for me... I didn't know if I could keep myself from falling into despair.

There was no natural light in the library apart from the glass-stained window. Graysen stalked toward me, a slice of darkness through hues of violet, heather and lilac and lavender were a kaleidoscope shifting across his body.

Here at least the scent of Graysen was muted. Up in the tower, I was suffused with the smell of cedar that muddled my thoughts and beckoned me to draw nearer and forget that he'd betrayed me. Another reason why I spent so much time outside on the balcony inhaling fresh non-Graysen air.

A computer was set up on an oak wooden desk beside a set of cozy seating of tall backed armchairs and comfortable couches adorned with quilts and generous cushions. One cushion had an indentation and loose fur from Flossy the cat. "Our library system," Graysen explained, gesturing toward it when he saw my line of sight. As soon as my eyes lit upon the computer station, excitement and hope rushed through me. My first thought was that I might be able to get a message to my family.

Graysen shook his head, reading my yearning so easily on my features. "Everything is passworded—all the computers, all the phones. You won't be able to contact anyone outside this place."

I sighed. My shoulders fell as I fiddled with the loose folds of my skirt. "Okay."

Bastard.

He turned slowly in a tight circle, admiring the library and the wooden spiral staircase that led to a small mezzanine level. "This is the Heart of the Keep. It's the original stronghold, along with the tower—"

"Your tower?" I asked, interrupting. Our voices were loud in the expansive room and it was natural to turn back to him, move closer, and lower our tones.

He nodded, swiveling around on his heels to face me once more.

I was itching to ask about that tower. Why he lived there, and not with his family? How the tower came to be infused with magic that could lock out anyone he wished? However, I tucked away my questions for now. Right now, I was focused on this marvelous library and his family. "Just how old is your family? I know you hail all the way back to the Final War, but how much further back?"

Graysen's dark eyes sliced to mine, his eyebrows raised as if taken aback by my change in questioning. Perhaps he thought I was going to continue to ask about the Keep. Soon enough, I would.

Squinting, I noted how his body wasn't held rigid, his expression not as flat. He'd been on edge, practically bristling as he'd led me through the short passageways in the Keep to the library. But right now, he seemed to have softened and lost the coldness and aloofness he cloaked himself within. Maybe simply being here, sheltered within the privacy of the library, he felt safe enough to relax.

"All the way back to the birth of the Horned Gods," he replied quietly. "Back even further too."

I blinked, my head slowly tilting, my world view of him too. The vast age of his family line was staggering.

"How did you lose your placement of Great House?"

This time his surprise did show, and a pinch of admiration. But what stopped me breathing was the sudden flash-fire of lust that set the golden flecks in his eyes aflame. He couldn't suppress it. He liked the fact I was smart. He'd admitted to me that it turned him the-fuck-on. "You know that about us?" he asked, prowling closer. "All knowledge was struck from the records."

I nodded, holding my ground, and taking a breath through my nose which was the worst thing I could have done. His pores were saturated with his intoxicating scent. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying not to jitter, trying to defuse the fizzing in my blood like effervescent champagne. "How did you survive when so many families who held the position were annihilated?"

"Now, that is the question." He swallowed up the remaining distance between us with one long stride. "We stepped down."

The words were punched from my lungs along with my breath at the shock of learning that. I stilled. "Your family willingly abdicated?"

It was unheard of. Utterly unheard of for a family to relinquish their hold of the position.

And the Crowthers had survived.

Families who held the mantle of Great House had been ended at the Horned Gods' will, or been usurped by the machinations of other Houses, and later fallen in bloodshed.

But not the Crowthers.

Graysen cocked his head, staring down at me. "I have questions for you too, Wychthorn," he said softly. "Perhaps we'll make a trade."

Of course, he'd twist what I wanted to know to his own advantage. I kneaded my fingers into the skirt's silky fabric. "What do you want to know?" What information could he possibly need from me? Then it dawned on me as his gaze, a hot feathered caress, slid all over my face to watch the nuances at play, as if I would silently reveal my truth.

Silas Boon.

The Children of the Harbinger.

He knew I'd lied to his aunt when she asked me what I knew of him.

"I'll answer a question for an answer from you," he offered, his voice rough and gravelly.

Swallowing thickly, I nodded. There was nothing to lose and everything to gain.

I pushed off, needing distance from him. I headed toward the spiral staircase, curious about the mezzanine level. Sage came out from between rows of bookshelves to join me, and I heard Graysen's footfall as he shadowed me.

"The Keep grew along the centuries," I heard him say. "And when it got big enough my ancestors changed this space to the library."

"Your family lives above this?" I asked, half-twisting around as I climbed the first step.

He nodded. Then before I asked, he said. "No. My family's residences are off-limits to you."

I rolled my eyes, halting to shift my body to face him. I flicked the tail end of my braid over a shoulder. "Scared I might slit their throats in the middle of the night?" I drawled.

Now, that was an idea.

"Highly doubtful you'd get close enough to do so," he replied as he brushed by, climbing the spiral staircase ahead of me. Sage trailed behind as I followed, and after a short climb, I stepped onto the mezzanine. There were comfy couches and armchairs set up beside the glass-stained window. I padded across velvet-soft sheepskin rugs, and around a coffee table with old-fashioned art-deco lamps curving over bean bags. The books here seemed different from the ones below. Like the library, these walls were covered with books and there was even a narrow ladder set up to reach the books on higher shelves.

Looking at the romantic script along the spines in gold and silver, I realized just what kinds of books these were.

Graysen moved closer and rested a hand on the edge of the bookshelf. "My mother devoured romance novels—these are mostly hers." My eyes flared wide. The romance section was huge. I glanced at him, surprised, and perhaps not so. "This was my mother's favorite place to retreat, aside from the garden," he murmured, skimming the room with his gaze. He moved along the mahogany bookcase and started perusing the titles, leaving me alone to do the same.

There were a lot of romance books here, and judging by the first one I pulled from the shelf, Tabitha Crowther and I shared the same love for heated romances. It had a brawny, bearded guy with tattoos all over his chest and muscular arms. He scowled down at a scantily-clad woman, their lips ghosting one another. It practically screamed erotica and dark romance with a filthy-mouthed antihero.

I glanced from beneath my lashes at the villain standing in front of me.

Graysen leaned his shoulder against the bookcase, one ankle crossed over the other, as he casually flicked through a book, that filthy abrasive mouth of his was pursed in disgust as he rolled his eyes at something he read.

Light glinted and spun away from the silver chains and leather bound around his wrist as he unconsciously lifted a hand to drag his fingers through his messy obsidian hair. I leisurely drank in the ink swirling up his throat and curving just along the jawline on one side of his throat. And as if he felt my attention, his piercing black eyes snapped up to meet mine and he smiled.

I forced back the electric shiver that wanted to roll through my body.

It was far too tempting to slap the lazy smirk right off his stupidly beautiful mouth.

The problem with us being cooped up in his tower together was that I was slowly getting to know him. I had been and still was furious with him. I wanted to kill him for what he'd done to me. But somehow that fire of hatred for him was beginning to dampen with getting to know him, piece by piece, day by day, and seeing another side to him.

We hadn't really talked.

Ever.

Not in all the time we'd spent together this past year. We'd merely put up with one another's unwelcome presence in comfortable silence, occasionally snipping and snarling at one another. But we'd never had a proper conversation with each other, and that had continued up in the tower.

While I was snapping at him, or chanting at him to free me, he'd mostly remained silent.

But that was something I couldn't afford to do any longer if I wanted to bend him to my need—which was to free me.

I needed to get to know my enemy.

And I had been watching and learning, but what I'd noted were the things he'd done for me, not in so many actual words. He'd talked to me in other ways.

***

A/N:- On the 1 July 2024, the 'Of Crows and Thorns' saga will be removed from YONDER and is leaving the 'Wattpad Originals' program and turning back into a free read.

While this means that it is possible to update CAGED with the remaining chapters and mark it as completed, however, because of the behind-the-scenes administration required for each chapter prior to being updated, this unfortunately prevents the book from being rapidly completed. In the meantime, I shall stick to the updating schedule set by Wattpad, and if it's possible to release a few more chapters every so often, then I shall do so. 💚Once I finish all the administration tasks, I will update CAGED with the remaining chapters at a rapid pace - but please understand that it's a challenging task and it will require a significant amount of time. 💚

I'm incredibly grateful to Wattpad for giving me this opportunity. Although it didn't work out for me, I remain hopeful that this program will be successful for other writers and their stories. 

Thanks so much for your support and kindness over this past year. 💚 It's been so lovely to see new readers discover the saga and have OG readers returning too. You own my heart. 🥰 

Ava xoxo