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I didn't know what to think.

Mireya could feel Ciaran's eyes on the side of her face, watching and maybe waiting for her to lash out and insist that he is lying.

He hadn't done anything to make her think he's a liar, but then again how would she know?

Despite her plan with Ariel, she had avoided Ciaran with every chance she got. Mireya never took the time to stay by his side and analyze him. She was in constant fear that he might bring harm to her.

It was that, or this pull that tugged at her chest and muddled all her thoughts when he was around. She believed it was another one of his doings, but she was too scared to ask.

So far he hadn't shown any signs of wanting to bring her harm, and he hadn't shown any signs of hiding things from her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mireya glanced at him. Her eyes remained on his chest. She wondered, if his story were true, whether or not the scars on his back remained. If so, did they heal, or were they eternal wounds that never sealed up?

Ciaran stood up and Mireya internally flinched at his sudden movement.

He didn't say a word. He only walked to the front of the library, where the bookshelves concealed his body from view. From her spot by the lit fireplace, Mireya could hear him moving books aside as well as the creaking sound of a wooden compartment being opened.

She held her breath and slowly stood from the couch. She took a few steps in his direction, tiptoeing as she went. Her eyes briefly glanced at the table that separated her from the bookshelves and she paused when a familiar piece of parchment caught her eye.

The markings and letters remained unfamiliar to her, but she knew there would be a book in the library that would translate the words for her. She stared a little longer to memorize the strange letters, but when she heard the compartment creak once more, she went back to her spot on the couch and waited for Ciaran to return.

A few seconds after sitting down, Mireya saw Ciaran step out from behind the bookshelves. He had both hands behind his back, hiding whatever it was he was clearly going to show her.

She began to wonder what exactly he had gone to get.

A book? A journal? Was it my way out?

Once he was at arm's length, he held one hand out for her. She assumed she was meant to put her hand in his and that is what she did.

Mireya stood from the couch and placed her hand over his, her palm facing the ceiling.

"Close your eyes." He said to her and the sound of his smooth voice tugged at her chest.

She complied and closed her eyes for him. She could feel him place something cold in her hand. It was too light to be a book, but it was too heavy to be a pencil or any other writing tool.

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