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flushed in embarrassment. They had been caught spying on him and Hazel; they knew it. However, their act of eavesdropping encouraged Jay. Perhaps the Goldbridge citizens were ready for change.
     
    A thought soured his good mood as he stepped into the elevator. Goldbridge may be ready, but was the Crystal Ridge pack?
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Libraries. They were full of two things: books and dust. Jay didn't care much for either. Books were of little use when he was growing up. When you didn't know when your next meal would be, you cared very little for Hero McProtagonist's overpriced series.
     
    He sighed and flipped the next page of the ancient chronicle from two hundred years ago. Since Goldbridge dealt with supernatural species, the documents of a more sensitive nature were in the basement. Enchantments wrapped around the books, keeping them from collecting mildew, burning, or being vandalized. However, it did absolutely nothing against dust. His eyes gleaned down the page of calligraphic script, barely able to make sense of the edict thanks to spelling choices and script.
     
    After an hour and a half of rooting around in Goldbridge Public Library's stale archives, Jay was about ready to call it quits. The only thing he had acquired was a snout full of dust, gallons of snot, and fifteen sneezing bouts. There was nothing on Crystal Ridge or the supposed pact. Quite possibly, it was a verbal agreement two hundred years ago. Heck, it could even be a misunderstanding passed down by word of mouth among the ferals.
     
    A word caught Jay's eye: Stone.
     
    His brows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes, his gaze creeping slowly along the sentence: Mayor Reginald Stone seeks to establish developments on land once held bye natives . After a few attempts, Jay understood the gist. With a sense of foreboding, he flipped to the next page. The further he delved in the book, the sweatier his palms became.
     
    Equinox Grounds to be demolished for housing. Faintly, Jay recalled manifest destiny with a sour taste in his mouth. That had been the excuse to take land from natives, once before. He didn't bother to read the article as he flipped to the next page.
     
    Nothing of importance graced his gaze, until he happened on a small rectangular section: Minutes of Town Meeting . Beneath the title, there were a multitude of inane statements. They mostly pertained to petty complaints of people at the time: overgrown bushes butting along a neighbor's yard; unfair trades; maintenance to be done. He continued to skim until his gaze caught the word 'natives.' Natives concerns shelved by Mayor Stone til next meeting.
     
    Jay's lips pursed as he flipped the page. Page after page of headlines depicting gruesome livestock poaching and presumably foul murders followed. He began to see where all of this was going. Goldbridge had a good relationship with the pack, at one time. Then, this Mayor Stone – possibly the current mayor's ancestor – wanted to develop the town. The lands he chose were sacred spaces for the ferals. He ignored their cries, they became violent, and he turned them into villains.
     
    He leered at the book in his hands. His head tried to wrap around this information. Why did Goldbridge care what the native Crystal Ridge pack held dear, though? Hadn't they already sniped the land from under them? He got his answer on the next page:
     
     
     
    Mayor Stone Rescinds Agreement Made With The Ferals
     
     
     
    In light of the terror, Mayor Reginald Stone has proclaimed the treaty with natives to be nullified. The treaty was signed half a century ago, when Goldbridge was established. Now, it will go to the bin.
     
    “These natives cannot be trusted if they resort to violence above peaceful protest,” stated the Mayor at the last town meeting, where he announced this new turn of events. The natives have since moved farther into the forest. They have cut daily ties with Goldbridge. Mayor Reginald Stone was further reported as saying,