From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I run my fingers across the lines, looking for a paragraph that talks about creatures other than vampires and their clear rivals, the shapeshifters. I’ve never heard of them, much less seen one, though they must be intimidating if they’re enemies of the vampires–whose presence alone already chills my blood.

Suddenly, I feel the presence of someone else in the library. Without closing the book, I look to my right, scanning the aisles formed by the shelves.

“Is someone there?”

The only reply I receive is silence.

I decide to continue reading. I run my finger down the lines, looking for what I want to read today.

“Here.” I smile in satisfaction.

“… Among the long list of species, we find fairies, with their countless subspecies, and although their appearance may be charming and friendly, they should not be underestimated. They are deceiving in looks, and their mastery of natural elements makes them dangerous. In the water, we find mermaids and tritons. Their beauty is hypnotic, and their yearning to walk on land makes them harbor resentment toward the rest of the beings, so they use every opportunity to drag them to the ocean depths. Few survivors are known to have escaped an attack by these creatures…”

skip a few lines.

“Witches have been nearly annihilated; few remain among us. Mainly human in appearance, they stand out for their mastery of magical arts and their long life expectancy. A distinction is made between white magic and black magic witches, although both are scarce nowadays and extremely hard to spot. The last witch was seen two hundred and sixty–four years ago.”

Again, that feeling of being watched. I close the book, clearly annoyed. I let out a loud sigh of frustration as proof. I almost expect to feel the icy chill that accompanies Cassian’s presence in my mind or to hear him start rambling inside it.

I set the book down on the ledge and stand, ready to rid myself of that feeling. I walk between the shelves, searching for the culprit, but I find only emptiness and dust motes dancing through the air.

I return to my nook and sit, legs crossed. The candle has burned down quite a bit, and I’m about to move it closer when I think I see something in the flame. I blink several times, thinking I’ve gone mad. It’s impossible that I’m seeing tiny eyes.

I bring the flame close to my face, well aware I might set my hair on fire. I squint, not believing what I see.

“This can’t be,” I say, trying to convince myself.

From the flame begins to emerge a small body with yellowish skin, hair às red as blood, and fire burning in her eyes. Her skin resembles that of a reptile, with small scales scattered across her body, and I’d almost dare say the strange addition of the afternoon is shaped like a woman.

“Not eating breakfast this morning is making me see things,” I mutter. “Damn hallucinations.”

“Think I’m a hallucination if that makes you feel better.”

The creature walks on her toes, arms extended to the sides as if she’s balancing. She’s about the size of a finger and absolutely adorable.

Į

“This can’t be real.”

“Said the girl reading a book about supernatural creatures.”

Her voice is high–pitched but not annoying. She speaks with a teasing tone.

“What the hell are you?”

I pull my knees up to my chest as far as I can.

“Don’t I appear in that book?”

She sounds annoyed. She starts hopping on the candelabrum, lands on my lap, and climbs onto my knee to peek at the pages of the old book. I feel heat where her feet touch the fabric.

“No, there’s nothing about you, she huffs. “You should find a better book on fairies.”

“So you’re a fairy?”

“Well, I’d say I’m something more wonderful, impressive, and majestic.” The creature spins in a ridiculous little dance. “I’m a salamander.”

“A salamander?”

She sighs deeply, like she’s had this conversation before and is clearly annoyed to be repeating it. The flames in her eyes intensify.

1/2

12:19 PM

Chapter 17

“Yes, a salamander. A spirit of fire, though many people consider us fairies.” Suddenly, she spreads tiny wings in shades of red and orange and begins fluttering around me. “And I was already bored of watching you read for hours. You come here every day.”

“I like this place,” I simply say.

“It’s quiet.” She gives something like a shrug. “Too quiet for my taste.”

I frown. I bend slightly toward this strange creature.

“And why are you still here?” I ask. “You have wings–you could go anywhere. Not like me. I can’t escape this place.”

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