Maya's knees went weak. She gripped the edge of a nearby desk, her mind reeling. "That's impossible. I'm just… I'm just a librarian. I have a degree in information science, for God's sake."
Kieran's expression softened with something that might have been sympathy. "Tell me, Maya—have you always been drawn to the night? Do electrical devices behave strangely around you when you're emotional? Can you sometimes sense things about people that you shouldn't know?"
Each question hit like a physical blow because the answer to all of them was yes. The countless nights she'd spent reading until dawn, feeling more alive in darkness than daylight. The way streetlights flickered when she walked beneath them during her evening runs. The uncanny ability to know when patrons were lying about overdue books or personal troubles.
"That doesn't mean anything," she said weakly.
"Your grandmother was Selene Chen, wasn't she?" Kieran asked. "The woman who ran the herb shop on Maple Street? The one people whispered about, said she could predict the weather and brew teas that cured more than just headaches?"
Maya's mouth went dry. Her grandmother had died when she was twelve, but she still remembered the way plants seemed to flourish in her presence, how cats and dogs would follow her down the street, how she always knew when storms were coming days before the meteorologists.
"How do you know about my grandmother?"
"Because she was like us. A descendant of those who walked between worlds." Kieran gestured toward the window, where the full moon hung like a pearl against black velvet. "Your bloodline carries magic, Maya. Ancient magic that's been sleeping in your veins, waiting for the right moment to wake."
"Magic isn't real." But even as she said it, Maya thought of the books downstairs, the way reading them had felt like coming home to something she'd never known she was missing.
"Isn't it?" Kieran raised his hand, and the air around his fingers began to shimmer. Slowly, tiny points of light appeared, dancing through the air like fireflies. They swirled around Maya, warm and gentle, before settling into the palm of his hand and fading. "Your grandmother could do something similar. Light magic, rare and beautiful."
Maya stared at where the lights had been, her worldview crumbling and reforming. "What are you?"
"A shapeshifter. A werewolf, if you prefer the common term." He said it matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather. "My pack has protected this territory for over two centuries. We've been watching your family line, waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"For you to come into your power. For the prophecy to begin fulfilling itself." His silver eyes grew serious. "Maya, there are others who know what you are. Others who would use your abilities for dark purposes. The books you've been reading—they've awakened something in you, and that awakening sends out ripples through the supernatural world."
Maya's legs finally gave out, and she sank into a chair. "This is insane. Yesterday my biggest problem was the budget for new young adult fiction."
Kieran moved closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body despite the cool night air. "I know it's overwhelming. But you're not alone in this. My pack—my family—we'll protect you while you learn to control your abilities."
"And if I don't want to learn? If I just want to go back to my normal, boring life?"
"It's too late for that." His voice held genuine regret. "The moment you opened those grimoires, you announced your presence to every supernatural creature within a hundred miles. Some will want to help you. Others…" He trailed off, but his meaning was clear.
Maya closed her eyes, feeling the weight of this new reality settling around her like a cloak. When she opened them again, Kieran was crouched before her chair, his pale eyes filled with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"There's something else," he said quietly. "Something I haven't told you."
"More surprises? I'm not sure I can handle any more tonight."
A rueful smile crossed his features. "The prophecy that mentions your bloodline—it also speaks of a bond. A connection between the light-bearer and the wolf who guards her." His hand moved toward hers but stopped just short of touching. "I've been dreaming of you for months, Maya. Seeing your face in visions, hearing your voice on the wind. I came here tonight because I couldn't stay away any longer."
Maya felt something electric pass between them, a pull that seemed to originate from somewhere deeper than attraction. "Dreaming of me?"
"The mate bond," he said softly. "Among my kind, we each have one destined partner. One soul that calls to ours across all barriers." His fingers finally brushed hers, and Maya gasped at the jolt of connection that shot through her. "You're mine, Maya. And unless I'm very much mistaken, I'm yours."