A Shifter's Sin (Wolves of Hawthorne Cove Book 1) by Debbie Cassidy

Author:Debbie Cassidy [Cassidy, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-02T16:00:00+00:00

TATE

My instincts were right. This room behind the door I’m drawn to is a fully stocked library and study combined.

Some are popular titles, fiction to while away an afternoon, but there are also reference books and a large cabinet filled with leather-bound texts written in Latin and other ancient languages. Some I recognize, others not so much, but I’m confident I can decipher them. Languages come naturally to me. A skill that’s grown over time.

This will be my space. The dark wooden paneling, the chesterfield, and the armchair by the hearth are perfect for reading. There’s a desk beneath a bay window overlooking the drive that will provide a good spot to study and transcribe the more obscure texts.

This room, like the others, is dust-free and clean, which confirms my suspicions that brownies aren’t stopped by locked doors.

“You can show yourself if you want.” I scan the room for movement, some sign that I’m not alone. Silence greets me. “I get it. I’m not much of a people person either.”

I head back out of the library and down to the basement. It’s lit up now with weak, anemic light spilling across the dingy, musty space. I bypass the antique furniture and the chests filled with vintage clothes and head straight for the prize—a wooden case crammed with leather-bound books of all shapes and sizes.

Excitement stirs in my chest. These are ancient books filled with yellowed, brittle paper that I’ll need to be careful with. I can’t wait to discover the secrets within. Who owned these treasures and why were they left here to rot?

The box is bulky, heavy too, but I carry it with ease, fueled by eagerness.

Once back in the library, I settle at the desk and angle the lamp for the perfect light. The box calls to me and I reach in, aiming for a thick tome, but at the last minute I’m drawn to a slender book with a soft leather cover secured with a braided leather tie.

This happens sometimes. This inexplicable pull to objects. They usually turn out to be important in some way and I’ve never truly questioned the ability. It’s a sixth sense that’s come in useful.

My gut tells me this book is important somehow, but the excitement in my stomach morphs to icy dread, warning me to put it back. Yes, I should put it back.

Instead, I find myself carefully unraveling the tie and gently opening the book. Yellowing pages and spidery inked words greet me. The language is an unfamiliar one, but the more I stare at it, the more sense it makes. My mind itches and my mouth forms the words, and as the sounds hit my ears, the words make sense.

“The Coming of the Faoladh.”

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