I rub my temple as my head swims. Obviously, I know it’s possible for a fae and a human to be soul mates. After all, it happened for Brittney. I just never thought that was the case for me.
“I figured since I’m human…”
“You are, mostly,” Astrid replies, stepping close to me with a magnifying glass. She grabs my arm and pushes up my sleeve before inspecting the veins on my inner wrist. “But you’ve got some fae blood in you. On your maternal side. Probably a great great grandmother.” She pauses at the crease of my elbow. “Nah, add one more great. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
“You’re saying one of my ancestors got knocked up by a fae dude?”
“How long has your family owned your land?” She looks up at me.
“Like, five generations.”
“A lot of portal access there.” Letting go, she walks back to the table. “It’s likely she had a tryst with the man, never even knowing he wasn’t human.”
“Is he still alive?” If so, I’ve got a distant grandfather here.
Returning to the bowl, she gazes into it with the magnifying glass. “Nope. He was a lowly Day soldier who stole portals from his general. He was caught and executed shortly after his crime.”
My sneakers squeak as I begin pacing again. “This changes everything. I have to tell Kirian.”
I can’t stop smiling.
I don’t have to ask Astrid to pull off some impossible task. I don’t have to give Kirian up.
Grabbing my coat and hat from the hook next to the sink where Astrid told me to hang them before we played beauty salon, I hastily put them on.
I imagine Kirian’s face when I tell him the news.
His brilliant smile.
How happy he’ll be.
He’ll get his sight back and we’ll be together. It’s a scenario I’ve never considered.
But it’s real.
“Thank you, Astrid. Thank you so much.”
I’m rushing for the doorway when she says, “Are you sure you don’t have more questions?”
Well, yeah. I’d have a whole load of them if I could think straight. But as it is, the only thing I want right now is to get to Kirian.
“I’ll be back,” I call over my shoulder.
I hesitate at the rock wall. It doesn’t look penetrable, but I saw Kirian walk through it.
Deciding to risk a few bruises, I surge ahead. I don’t feel any kind of barrier, and suddenly, darkness is all around me once again.
“Kirian?”
No answer.
“Kirian? Damon? I’m here.”
Nothing.
Seconds tick by, and panic slowly creeps in.
He said he’d be right outside the door.
Oh, God.
What if something happened to him? What if he got attacked by some awful deadly creatures? What if he’s hurt?
Despite the cold air, sweat beads on my forehead and my hands get clammy.
I can’t see, and even if I could, I have no idea where I’m going. I don’t know how to get out of here.
I’m completely helpless and unprotected.
Lost.
Astrid. I should go back. She can help.
But when I turn around, my hands connect with nothing. I swing my arms, but all I get is air.
Shit. I must’ve gotten turned around.
My fear escalates when I hear a howl somewhere in the pitch-black abyss. I need to calm down and think rationally.
I can’t be far from Astrid’s. I literally just walked out her door, so it can’t be more than a few feet away.
I back up five paces and try to feel behind me. Then I step to the left. To the right. As I go forward, I feel like I’m stuck in a bad line dance.
My hand grazes something, but it’s not rock. It feels like feathers.
Not good. Not good at all.
Screaming, I fall backward and land hard on my butt. “Kirian! Help!”
Someone grabs me from behind, and for a second, I’m relieved. I’m saved.
Only, I’m not. I get a whiff of alcohol, sweat, and dirt. Not Kirian’s scent.
Before I can cry out, a hand clamps over my mouth and the stranger drags me backward, pulling me deeper into the Shadowlands.
Kirian
It’s hard to keep track of time when I’m in so much pain, but I’m estimating it’s been about two hours since I left Quinn in Astrid’s cave.
The iron chains burn my flesh. It’s a net of some sort, and the tangled web is marring my skin from head to toe. Even through my clothes, I can feel the metal affecting me.
Damon lies next to me in the same predicament, occasionally writhing and moaning.
We were set up. As soon as we came out of Astrid’s, we were ambushed. Someone was ready for us.
“If I get my hands on that witch, I swear on all the stars…” I grit out, finishing my threat with a hiss.
“It wasn’t her doing,” Damon insists. “I swear it.”
“How would you know? You really trust her that much?”
“Yes.”
As if talking about Astrid summons her presence, she appears next to us. I can smell the mixture of soot from her fireplace, ginger, and a hint of Quinn.
“You boys need a hand?”
“That’d be great,” Damon rasps. “I’m kinda wondering what took you so long.”
“Figured you two could handle yourselves. Big burly kings, and all.” Sarcasm is evident in her voice.
“Is she always this cheeky?” I ask Damon, and he sighs as the iron is removed.
“Yes. It’s one of the things I love most about her.”
Next, the net is slowly peeled away from me, taking a few chunks of skin with it. Damn. Quinn’s seen me messed up before, but this is on another level. I just hope my appearance doesn’t scare her too badly.
Limping, Damon and I follow Astrid through her door, but when we get inside, I don’t sense Quinn. I sniff the air, but her scent is old. Lingering. Stale.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“Who?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You know who.”
Taking her time, Astrid putters to her rocking chair and lowers to the seat. Her fingers get to work on something. She’s braiding.
I storm over and swipe the rug out of her hands. Finding the end she’s weaving, I
