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Bash pointed to a desk on the far left of the room, his deep voice echoing as he spoke.

Our footsteps seemed incredibly loud against the marble floor as we strolled toward the archivist’s desk. He was hunched over a stack of books, his tousled blond, wavy hair flopping over his forehead. Bash knocked on the desk to grab his attention.

The archivist jerked upright and pulled a pair of AirPods from his ears, greeting us with a bright smile. “Oh, hey! Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he admitted with a British accent. “Welcome to the castle library. What can I help you with?” His eyes jumped between me and Bash, then snapped back to me when he got a good look at my eyes. “Oh, Christ, Princess!” He bolted up from his chair, knocking it over in his haste. “So sorry!”

“Relax.” I waved off his concern. “It’s no biggie.” I smiled at him and he visibly relaxed. “We could actually use your help.”

“Of course, anything,” he said with a nod, closing the book clamped in his hands. He took a moment to pause the music on his phone and gave us his undivided attention. “My name is Blake Wilmington. I’m the archivist for Sheunta Village.”

“Sorry to disturb you, Blake, but we’re in need of some information,” I replied apologetically.

He grimaced. “I rarely get visitors in here, if ever, so this is a treat. What kind of information are you looking for?”

“What do you have on angels?” Bash asked without preamble.

“Angels?” Blake glanced between us in confusion. “I’ll have to look, but I’m not too sure what we have. What specifically are you looking for?”

From the look on Blake’s very young face, either he wasn’t experienced enough, or there was nothing in this library that could educate us about angels. I was betting on the latter since I doubted the castle would employ someone who didn’t thoroughly know their shit. That meant we would have to change our tactics.

“Blake, what do you know about mythology?” I asked instead, crossing my fingers that looking into mythology might provide a clue.

The young archivist brightened at the question. “Tons! Humans love to pull our stories from mythology. It’s my favorite subject.”

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. “Do you know of any supernatural creatures in mythology that can fly?” I asked, hoping to narrow down our search.

“Hmm … are you talking about supernaturals that exist? Because we have gargoyles, djinn, some fae, harpies, and Wendigos. Or are you strictly looking at mythology, and the creatures that are purely myth?” Blake came around the other side of his desk and started walking toward one of the towering stacks of books. Bash and I followed.

“Mythical creatures,” Bash and I said at the same time, then smiled at each other, happy that we were on the same page.

Blake led us through rows and rows of books, swerving through sections until he reached an area in the rear of the library. “Well then, you got the garuda – that’s a real nasty fellow.” He handed Bash a textbook. “Furies in Greek mythology. Phoenixes.” He handed over another textbook. “Griffins, dragons, sphinxes—”

Blake supplied seven huge textbooks and we struggled to hold on to them. As he rattled on about different species that sounded completely absurd, it hit me.

He mentioned Furies were in Greek mythology, which triggered a thought. What if we were looking in the wrong mythos?

“—thunderbird, wyvern—” Blake was still counting off mythical creatures when I cut him off.

“What about creatures in Norse mythology?” I asked what should have been my first question, and the most obvious one, since Fenrir was a Norse god.

Blake looked over at us and shrugged. “That’s easy. Valkyries.”

I carefully placed my stack of books on the floor and took a deep breath, the feeling in my gut telling me we were on to something. “Can you tell me about them?”

“Sure,” he answered simply, “but you won’t find anything about them in those books. Set those down,” he offered to Bash. “I’ll put them away later.” When the archivist turned back to the stacks, Bash and I gave each other a pointed look. Blake searched through the books until he found the one he was looking for. “Here it is. This has everything you need to know about Norse mythology and especially about Valkyries.”

We followed Blake back to the front as he continued speaking to us over his shoulder. “Valkyries are a group of female warriors that belong to Odin, tasked with choosing fallen soldiers to fight in the final battle of Ragnarök, the war of the gods. The fallen soldiers they choose are given the honor of entering Valhalla, which is like heaven for warriors, until the day of the battle. They’re pretty tough broads.”

Could the women I saw flying in the air above us be Valkyries? It would make sense, especially considering their shared connections to Norse mythology. Raven was tough as balls – stronger than anyone else I’d ever encountered, but damn, this was way too much to take in. Which was rich, coming from a damn werewolf.

“Can I borrow this book?” I asked Blake.

He nodded. “Yeah, just sign it out and it’s yours.”

I followed him to his desk where he pulled out a ledger. I quickly scrawled my name and the title of the book, then thanked him for his help.

“Anytime, Princess.”

“Call me Mackenzie.” I grinned. “And trust me, I’ll be back. I have a feeling I’m going to need a lot of your help very soon.”

Bash and I left the library with our book in tow and the same two guards from earlier escorted us back through the castle. We kept quiet. I remembered Lucian’s admonition about guards being the eyes and ears of the castle and didn’t want to give any information away to any ears who may be listening for all the wrong reasons, but I was dying to purge and talk to Bash about what we just learned – that the chicks in the sky, including Raven, the

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