My Fated Mate Can Have Her-Chapter 253: Hidden Passages

Rowan

Nessa looked up at me, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Why would I—"

"Just don’t."

She studied my face for a moment, then sighed.

"Noted." She rolled her eyes. "How was I even supposed to know she was your mate? I just thought you had found someone to—"

"I am not like you," I immediately shut down whatever she was assuming. "And because you thought I might have found another ’partner’ was now an opportune moment for you to budge in?" I frowned.

Nessa shrugged. "Why find a new person when I’m still here?"

I scoffed in annoyance and turned away from her.

"Telsid," I called through the mental link. "My chambers. Now."

The response was immediate. A ripple in the shadows near the corner of the room, and then Telsid was stepping through, his form solidifying from darkness into flesh.

His gaze swept the room, before finally landing on Nessa. His expression flattened with familiar disapproval, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

She just smiled at him, utterly unbothered. "Hello, Telsid."

"Please, escort her out," I told him as I fully took off my shirt.

"Good lord. I appreciate the eye candy, but that won’t be necessary." Nessa made her way to the door, her hand smoothing through her golden hair. "I will leave you to your darling mate, then."

The door handle clicked as she gripped it. She paused.

"She really is lovely, you know," she said over her shoulder. "You chose well. Or the goddess chose well for you, I suppose."

Before I could respond, I sensed movement in the corridor outside.

Violet.

She was in the hallway, approaching my door.

And Nessa was about to walk right into her.

I stood stunned. Violet was nowhere close mere seconds before. It was evident she had rushed here.

Was it because she sensed Nessa here already?

Nessa flashed me a knowing grin and my eyes widened as she stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her to immediately call out to Violet.

I heard her voice, bright and warm. "Violet! What a lovely coincidence. I was just leaving."

"Oh." Violet’s voice, cautious but polite. "Good evening."

"I’m so glad we spent the day together," Nessa continued. "I meant what I said earlier. I think we’ll be very good friends."

"Thank you. That’s... kind of you."

They soon broke down into a boring chatter led by Nessa and no matter how long I stood still and listened, Nessa had still not said anything compromising.

I took a step towards the doors then stopped.

I was half-undressed, and if I went out now, Violet might misread the situation. Telsid had only come in mere seconds ago and she might imagine something else if I walked out like this.

Telsid was watching me with a faintly exasperated expression. "Should I—"

"Go," I nearly snapped. "Take her away, and tell Violet I’ll join her shortly. I need a moment."

Telsid immediately rushed out and I heard the low murmur of voices as he interrupted their conversation.

I stood there, shirtless in the moonlit room, my heart beating faster than it had any right to.

I buried my face in my palms and groaned.

This was ridiculous.

[ - ]

The passage was narrow and dark, carved directly into the hill behind my wing of the castle.

I led Violet through it in silence, our footsteps echoing softly against the rough stone walls. The air grew cooler the deeper we went, carrying the faint scent of earth and age and something older still.

She hadn’t spoken much since we left the main hallways of the castle.

I glanced back at her, watching the way her eyes moved across the walls, taking in the ancient stonework, and the occasional iron sconce that held no flame. There was curiosity there, a quiet fascination with the hidden architecture.

But beneath it, I could sense how withdrawn and fidgety she was. Her hands kept finding each other, fingers twisting together before she would catch herself and let them fall to her sides.

She walked beside me when the passage widened enough to allow it, and she responded when I pointed out certain turns.

But her voice was soft, and her answers short.

And she wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.

My chest tightened with guilt.

I knew what she must be thinking. Nessa had been in my room, lounging on my bed like she belonged there, and Violet had arrived just moments after she left. Even if nothing had happened tonight, the implication was disturbing.

I wanted to explain the situation to her, but it would seem strange. No words could explain why a subject of mine was so comfortable to lounge in my private room uninvited.

We passed through a series of wider corridors, the stone giving way to smoother walls lined with faded tapestries. These passages were older than the castle itself, carved into the hill generations ago by wolves who understood the value of secrets.

Several doors branched off to either side, heavy oak bound with iron, each leading to different chambers hidden within the hill. Storage rooms, emergency shelters, escape routes that led out beyond.

But we weren’t going to any of those.

The corridor opened into a small antechamber, and I stopped before a wide door set into the far wall. The wood was dark with age, polished smooth by centuries of hands, and the lock was an intricate thing of brass and silver that clicked softly when I turned the key.

I pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Violet enter first.

The vast library stretched out before us, and I moved to the wall just inside the entrance, my fingers finding the small lever hidden behind a stone outcropping.

I pulled it, and overhead, dozens of crystal lamps flickered to life, their bright glow filling the chamber with warm, steady light.

Violet had stopped just past the threshold, her eyes wide.

The ceiling soared high above us, supported by thick stone pillars carved with symbols and patterns that predated the current age. Shelves were neatly arranged in sections, packed with books and scrolls and bound documents of every size. Wooden ladders on brass rails provided access to the higher reaches, and scattered throughout the room were reading tables, with adjustable lamps.

The sheer volume of it seemed to stun her.

"This is my family’s private archive," I said quietly, moving to stand beside her. "Generations of records, journals, correspondence, and collected works. Most of it relates to the history of Silverwood and the territories that existed before the current borders were drawn."