Instead of an art museum in Paris, I was standing in an empty art gallery. Looking down at the book, it flashes twice a dark sparkly purple before fading back to a normal looking old relic.

The room is long with high ceilings. The walls are white except one at the back looming over everything else. On it is a large tapestry that is black to the point that it absorbs the light around it. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s breathtaking and oddly beautiful.

The white walls are covered in paintings and artworks of varying scenes. One is a dog with a little boy. Another is a scene of fire. Each one depicts pain, happiness, or some other emotion that makes you linger and think about the artist. They all are beautiful. Impressive.

There’s children’s laughter coming from the back room. And a little boy no older than six years old, with hair dark as night and blue eyes that glow like starlight, walks out of the room.

One moment he is by the back and then next he is standing in front of me, looking up with paint all over his smiling face. His speed is inhuman. His ears are pointed and there is an aura around him that is dark and sparkles like little diamonds. This child is not human.

“My books aren’t special like yours.” The look he gives me is of innocence and curiosity. Dark shadows creep out from around him.

I can’t keep the look of shock off my face. “How do you know my book is special?” I ask the little boy covered in paint.

“Like calls to like.” He responds before he turns back to see a woman walk out of the room.

“Nyx!” Sing songs the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s tall, young, slim but fit, has golden-brown hair, and is wearing jeans with a cozy blue sweater that shows her midriff with tattoos peaking out and down one hand. She walks towards me with a smile and tucks a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

“How can I help you?” She eyes me up and down, making me aware of how much smaller and unstylish I look next to her. I can tell the boy is her son by the similiar facial features she shares with him.

Nyx gives me a shy wave and a bright smile before he rushes off back towards the room where more laughter is heard. The beautiful woman kisses the top of his head as he passes her all while keeping her eyes on me. It’s sweet and creepy at the same time.

Sensing danger, I have backed up and my hand is on the door knob to the exit. Once her son is beyond the closed door, she turns fully to me with a scary look on her face. I can sense the power she holds. It’s unnatural and weighty.

“You won’t get very far. My mate is on the other side of that door.” She smirks at me.

“That’s okay.” I smile back. “I just need to open the door.” And then I turn the knob with a whisper and walk into the Fox Library.

Drummond is hunched over a few books and a writing pad as I stumble into the room. He looks up with shock and fear. “What?” I ask.

“Who is she?” He asks with a pointed finger behind me.

“I am High Lady of the Night Court, but you can call me Feyre.” I hear behind me as she shuts the door.