Enzo's POV
The castle felt different when everyone else was asleep. Shadows stretched longer, the silence pressed heavier, and the faint flicker of torchlight made the stone walls seem alive. I didn't belong here, not really. No matter how many times Alaric told me I was his, part of me still felt like a stranger pacing inside a cage too big for me to understand.
I ended up outside the library. Its heavy doors stood half-open, and curiosity tugged at me. Inside, the shelves stretched impossibly high, ladders reaching toward books that looked older than entire kingdoms. Dust floated in the golden shafts of morning light seeping through the stained glass windows.
I trailed my fingers along the spines of the books, whispering their titles to myself. Languages I didn't recognize, histories I had never been taught, even maps drawn on parchment so fragile I was afraid to breathe too close to them.
"Do you plan to steal one?"
