The fighting continues, spread out around the room. The ground is now covered in broken bookshelves and torn or burnt books. My beautiful old Library is being destroyed before my very eyes. Most of my mahogany bookshelves smashed and splintered, parts broken along the dead beasts or injured bodies strewn across the room, only a few left standing in the rubble. Tables thrown and resembling only chunks of wood, and my books, my precious books…

I rub my chest at the pain expanding there as I stare at the beautiful volumes spread across the floors. Pages ripped and charred from the surrounding battles, some still floating in the air and pouring to the ground in fragments.

I take a stuttering breath as I try to clear my thoughts and focus on the fight before me.

I look to the front of the Library, where the main entrance sits…or what remains of it. The barrier has broken down further from their relentless attacks, and mutated shifters begin pouring in, followed by the five dark-cloaked figures.

So the real battle begins now.

Good. I needed somewhere to vent my rising anger.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lucien spreads his wings wide, a dark glint in his eyes as he hears my slight gasp.

“Don't worry, little doe.” Lucien grins.

“We’ll play later.” He takes to the air, his wings spreading majestically as he glides through the Library. He heads toward a dark-cloaked figure near the center of the room, making its way toward Ilyric. The Fae is distracted by the beasts in front of him, not noticing the threat approaching.

Lucien swoops down, taking out a few of the grotesque creatures along the way before he turns his full attention toward the cloaked form just as it begins its strike on Ilyric. Its dark smoke billows from its body, twisting and rippling before surging toward the unsuspecting Fae. Lucien opens his wings, a dark glow trickling over them before he pushes them forward in one powerful move. The force of the push sends all the smoke rolling back toward its master, the dark magic dispersing instantly around Ilyric.

The dark figure drags its attention toward Lucien in the air, its blackened eyes narrowed toward him, once again calling forth his black smoke.

Ilyric, now free of the beasts, who lie in pieces below him, sees the dark figure and black smoke behind him. He turns his gaze to the air and is met with a smugly grinning Lucien.

Ilyric's face contorts slightly, the annoyance of being helped by Lucien of all people visible in his synched jade eyes.

Mirin’s voice yells out in anger to my left, pulling my attention back to her as she calls out to Callyn.

Another of the dark-cloaked beings was holding Callyn in the air with its black-clawed hand. Callyn gasps and struggles for air against the creature's grip.

Mirin forms a larger fiery orb, twice the size of the previous one, in her palm, ready to help him, when suddenly she's attacked by three large shifters from behind.