Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I lift a hand, skimming my fingers over the sharp point of my new, elven ears. “I died,” I whisper, remembering now.
“Died and were born anew. You’re sleeping now. The metamorphosis . . . it is never easy, but your mortal flesh fought it harder than most.”
Because I never wanted to be fae.
A reaction to the bond. Sebastian was prepared with the Potion of Life, prepared to save me when the bond ended my mortal existence. Nothing in the curse included danger to mortals who bonded with the Seelie. But how could he have known? As I try to wrap my mind around the thought, it falls away, lost in the never-ending darkness.
I look down at myself. I’m dressed in the green gown Jas designed, but there’s nothing beneath my bare feet. We’re floating with the stars. “This is a dream.” Even if the lack of landscape didn’t give it away, I’d know it was true because I feel none of the anger and frustration I know I’m supposed to feel toward Finn. I feel . . . peaceful.
He nods and rolls back his shoulders as he surveys the sky. “A dream. One of the best I’ve had in years.”
“I don’t want to go back.” I bite my bottom lip. “So much pain.”
“The pain will be gone when you wake.” His silver eyes look sadder than I’ve ever seen them. “Are you happy?”
“I’m not sure I know how to be happy. It’s been so long since I’ve had the luxury.”
“Now you have your whole immortal life to figure it out.”
I look around the starry night sky that seems to cradle us here—outside of reality, outside of time. Even my thoughts feel suspended in this moment. “What happened?”
“After you left my catacombs, I had Pretha get you back to the Golden Palace. I knew you wouldn’t go with us, but I couldn’t leave you alone and bleeding in the Wild Fae Lands.”
Finn. Finn was the one who got me back to safety. I feel no surprise at this news. “I mean what happened after that?”
“You’ll understand the rest soon enough.”
“More secrets,” I say, but I’m too relaxed for the words to sound angry.
“I am sorry—for what it’s worth. I never expected . . .” He squeezes the back of his neck. “I tried to find a way out of involving you. Even after your mother’s protection ran out and I knew where to find you, I searched for a way. I saw you in a cellar, saw you work until your fingers were bloody, paying your debts and caring for your sister. I searched and searched for another way. My father put me in an impossible position when he gave his crown to a mortal girl.”
I ponder this. I never thought of it that way. Finn had an entire kingdom to think of . . . all those refugees. The children. “Do you hate him for it?”
His lips twist into a semblance of a smile. “I did once.” His gaze flicks to mine. “Before I knew you.”
I study the stars again. “I thought I had no hope, that there was nothing to believe in anymore, but when I think about your people and the camps . . . I hope. And still I believe you can help them.”
Swallowing, he closes those hypnotic silver eyes and bows his head. “Despite all I did to you? Before you?”
“Despite that.” Sighing, I let the stars sing to me. “I like it here. It reminds me of something my mother used to tell me when she took me outside at night.” Something I’d forgotten until now.
“What?” he asks. “What did she say?”
“That no matter how hopeless I feel, there’s always a little more hope inside me. That no matter how faithless I think I am, there is always something to believe in.” When I turn to look at him, he’s staring at me, eyes soft, jaw a bit slack. “Maybe that sounds foolish to an immortal.”
“Not at all.” He swallows hard. “May you always have a star to wish on, Abriella, and a reason to believe.” He begins to fade into the darkness.
“Finn, wait.” He rematerializes before me and waits, silently. “Why are you using your magic to visit my dreams? What of the cost?”
“Ah, what are the shadow fae good for but foolish dreams and ghoulish nightmares?” His eyes flick over me—from my eyes to my collarbones, down my gown, and to my bare feet before bringing them back up and settling on my wrist. I follow his gaze. My scar is gone. Not glamoured away, but gone. Its absence is an echo in my mind. Because it wasn’t a scar at all but the mark of the one who wears the Unseelie crown. “There is no cost now that the curse has been lifted, but it’s not my power that brought us here. I’m not using my magic.”