Chapter 19 No Safe Place

Elara’s

The blue torchlight swept closer, too close. My breath caught, my fingers twitching against the strap of my satchel. I braced myself to run.

But then,

“Keeper!” A sharp male voice echoed from beyond the hall. “You are summoned!”

The woman froze, her torch lowering slightly. Her eyes narrowed, reluctant, but she turned toward the voice.

“Very well.”

The man beside her scowled, but followed without protest. Their footsteps retreated down the marble corridor, fading until only silence remained.

I sagged against the pillar, lungs burning as I finally exhaled. My body trembled, every nerve raw with the aftermath of fear.

Too close. Too close.

I waited a few breaths longer, making sure they were gone, then slipped out from my hiding place. The satchel pulled at my shoulder, the stolen book inside whispering with its forbidden weight.

There was no way I could leave by the front. Too exposed. Too many guards.

I scanned the towering shelves, searching and then I saw it. A narrow archway at the back, almost hidden behind a broken tapestry. Shadows clung to it like a secret.

I darted across the hall, each step careful, measured, listening for the smallest echo of returning footsteps. My palm slid over the cold stone as I slipped through the arch.

The passage beyond was cramped, the air damp and smelling faintly of moss. I followed it blindly, my fingers trailing along the wall, until it opened into a quiet alleyway.

Night had settled over the Hidden Keep. Lanterns burned low, their golden light painting the cobblestones. The city looked older here, quieter, rows of stone buildings with slanted roofs, doorways marked with ancient runes.

I pulled my cloak tighter and melted into the shadows. My heart still hammered, but I forced myself to keep moving.

I needed a safe place. Somewhere to think, to read, to piece together the truth that I carried in my bag.

Ahead, a crooked wooden sign swayed in the night breeze, the Hollow Hearth Inn. The kind of place no one would look twice at. Cheap. Forgettable. Perfect.

I slipped inside, the warmth of firelight brushing against me as the door closed.

And yet even here, in the glow of the hearth, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

That the Council’s eyes were still on me.

The inn smelled faintly of smoke and old ale, the kind of place built for shadows, not stories. Behind the counter stood a broad-shouldered man with graying hair, his eyes sharp despite the lazy smile on his lips.

“You’re not from here,” he said, before I could even open my mouth. His tone wasn’t cruel, just certain. “I know every soul in this quarter. You… you’re new.”

My pulse skipped, but I forced a steady smile. “I’m visiting family. Thought I could make it before nightfall, but their house was already dark. I didn’t want to wake them.”

He studied me for a long moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he glanced at the satchel slung over my shoulder. It sagged with the weight of the book, heavier than it should have been.

For a heartbeat, I thought he’d ask. Demand. Call for the guards.

But instead, he shrugged. “Not my business,” he muttered, scribbling in his ledger. “Room upstairs, second door on the left.”

I reached for the coins in my cloak, sliding them across the counter. His hand covered them with surprising speed, his gaze finally softening.

“Word of advice, girl,” he said, voice low. “The patrols come by at night. Too many questions, too many eyes. Stay in your room. Sometimes they’re civil, sometimes…” His mouth twisted. “Sometimes they’re wolves wearing men’s faces.”

A chill rippled down my spine. I nodded quickly. “Thank you.”

He waved me off, already turning back to his books.

I climbed the narrow staircase, every board creaking beneath my boots. The hallway was dim, lit by a single sputtering lantern. I slipped into the room, bolted the door, and pressed my back against it.

Only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

The satchel thudded onto the bed. Inside, the stolen book pulsed with secrets I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

But outside, beyond the walls of this fragile inn, the city stirred. I could hear it, the clang of armor, the echo of boots on cobblestone. The patrols.

I whispered to myself, a vow and a warning both, I can’t be caught. Not now. Not until I know the truth.

And still, a darker thought coiled in the back of my mind.

What if the truth is worse than the lies?

I set everything down on the bed. Satchel, cloak, even the worn jacket I’d clung to through endless nights. The mattress sagged under the weight, the stolen book making the whole bundle look heavier than it should.

My shoulders ached as I stretched, my body finally realizing how long it had gone without rest. Hours on the road, then sneaking into the Keep, then hiding, stealing, running. No wolf, no matter how stubborn, could go on like this forever.

I crossed to the window, parting the thin curtains with cautious fingers. Below, the cobblestone streets glistened faintly in the lantern glow. Shadows moved, armor clinking, boots striking stone in rhythm. The city patrol.

Their presence sent a tremor through me. Not fear exactly, but something sharper. The knowledge that one mistake, one glance too long, could undo everything.

I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, exhaling slowly.

This can’t last. Not here. Not in these walls that belong to the Council.

My gaze shifted to the satchel on the bed. Inside, the book waited like a living thing, humming with secrets. Answers. Curses. The truth.

I had risked everything to pull it from the shelves of that cursed library. And now I would have to risk more to carry it beyond these gates.

Because deep down, a whisper in my bones told me what I didn’t want to admit, I would never be safe here. Not tonight. Not ever.