The Phaetyn prince dropped back to ride beside me. After an uncomfortable moment, he continued his apology, “I hadn’t anticipated bringing Lord Tyrrik with us, so I had no time to prepare my people.”

I glared at him. “I wouldn’t think you’d have to prepare your people. He’s riding with us, so he should be safe. And what about your talking trees?”

“Of course. You’re right. I had notified our elders, however the forest is large and our people spread throughout it. Not everyone would have been alerted, and Drae are our natural enemy.”

Tyrrik wasn’t their enemy any more than I was. My gaze caught Dyter’s, and I read the caution in his eyes, so I bit my tongue instead of yelling at more Phaetyn and skimmed over the now gathering crowd, searching for any lurking threats.

The gathered Phaetyn crowd contained a mixture of wide eyes and gaping mouths as well as others who just plain ol’ glared at me, their jaws set into rigid lines as they took in my blue scales and what felt like my reptilian eyes. So much for them being a peaceful race. My body was reacting to the threat they posed.

I remained hunched over Tyrrik as I scanned the area.

That central tree didn’t seem to be getting any closer, and the serenity I’d felt when I first stepped into the forest was ebbing away. Taking a closer look, I noticed the crowd had divided into two distinct groups on either side of our escort. Those to my right didn’t seem angry at me, but rather at the rest of the Phaetyn. Those to my left were all young men and women, and judging by the glares aimed my way, they didn’t like me and Tyrrik one bit. I wasn’t so sure Kamoi’s twelve guards would hold them all off if they charged. I would go full Drae if they didn’t watch out.

“How much farther until we’re safe?”

“Not much farther,” Kamoi said with a frown. “Ryn, you are safe here.”

“Mm-hmm,” I replied, making sure to be just as helpful as he’d been.

The guards halted and faced outward, banging their spears and shields together with a loud clatter. I turned to look back, and a wave of energy rippled over me from the direction of the tree. I gasped, staggering with a deep and sudden sense of yearning.

I forgot about the guards, the faction of young Phaetyn, and almost Tyrrik as I slid from the horse to the ground. I released my hold on the Drae, watching for any signs of agony, but Tyrrik’s limp body remained draped over our horse. We’d moved into the central safe zone, apparently.

Giving into the new yearning with a sigh that I felt soul-deep, I moved toward the ginormous gnarled elm reaching into the sky, its branches extending out as wide as the limbs extended above us. The rough bark was warm beneath my palm, and I ran my fingertips over the trunk in a soft caress, my heart shuddering.

A sense of home washed over me. A deep feeling of belonging, a tenderness that reminded me of my mother, the love she’d had for me, deep enough that she would sacrifice her life, and this brought tears to my eyes. I dropped to my knees.

The feeling didn’t stop but expanded, and images flashed behind my closed eyelids. A beautiful Phaetyn woman, laughing as she ran through the forest, her lover chasing after. The two of them kissing in an obvious binding celebration. A crowd of Phaetyn cheering as she spoke to them. This was their queen with her mate? The images shifted, and shadows fell over the forest. Blind panic was etched on the faces of Phaetyn, young and old. The numbers of Phaetyn dwindled, and the queen addressed her people, resignation on her face. The queen kissed her mate, she and a few of her attendants leaving the forest. As she left, the queen pulled the rocks up into jagged teeth, the jaws surrounding Zivost in a protective barrier none could penetrate.

At one with the trees, I longed to reach out for her and was crippled by my loneliness when she didn’t return. The images receded, fading into shadows of gray before dissolving into a canvas of solid black. A whisper of curiosity brushed my mind, but when an image of Irdelron standing over me surfaced, I broke contact with the elm with a gasp.

I closed my eyes, the bright light blinding me with stabbing pain in comparison to my time spent within the tree’s memories. Sitting, I pushed my palms into my eyes and put my head between my knees.

“What did you see?” Kamoi asked in a hushed voice. “Did the tree show you anything?”

I processed what I’d seen, opening my eyes and blinking so they’d adjust. “What happened to her? The previous queen?”

Kamoi’s lavender eyes darkened. “Luna Nuloa?”

I nodded. Her name fit her, like a sliver of moonbeam, delicate but strong.

“She—”

“Highness,” a guard yelled.

A crowd of Phaetyn marched toward us. Drak.

“I thought you said we’d be safe here, Kamoi.”

Prince Kamoi puffed his chest and extended his hand. “I did say that, Kealani, and I meant it. This is sacred ground.”

I let him pull me up, but as soon as I was standing, he released my hand and went to the guards.

Their murmuring was an indistinguishable chorus, but the low undercurrents betrayed their angst. Three of the guards waved their arms at me, and I ran to where Dyter stood by my horse and Tyrrik.

“This is not good,” Dyter said, stating the obvious. “I had no idea I was agreeing to take you into the middle of a war.”

I wrinkled my nose as I thought about it. “Is that what this is? Wait a minute. Can the Phaetyn harm each other? Is that even possible?”

Dyter shrugged, but beads of sweat glistened on top of his bald head. “I always thought the Drae were invincible and the Phaetyn extinct. I know hardly anything about them, except what I’ve learned from you and Kamoi on the journey here.”

I’d stopped listening, realizing I knew the answer, thanks to Ty, aka Tyr, aka Tyrrik. Phaetyn and Drae canceled each other which meant the Phaetyn needed Drae blood to kill one another.

I rested my hand on Tyrrik to assure myself he was still alive but pushed down my worry about his state as I eyed the crowd again. What the hay were they so angry about to begin with?

A second group of guards marched toward us by the sacred tree clearing, and the crowd of angry Phaetyn slowly dispersed.

Kamoi returned to us, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for the interruption, Kaelani—”

I held my hand out to stop him. “Don’t apologize. And don’t call me Kaelani. My name is Ryn. Just Ryn. I don’t have any pet names, except Rynnie, and only Dyter calls me that. You don’t control the people, do you? Is that your father’s job?”

Dyter cleared his throat, and I had a feeling I’d stepped in horse poop again.

“His mother’s job,” Dyter said. “His mother is the queen. The Phaetyn are a matriarchal society.”

Yikes. I winced. “Sorry,” I said with a grimace. “I’ve never been very good at politics.” Or cared.

Kamoi took my hand, and my heart started thumping despite all my bluster. Being that good looking wasn’t fair. His skin was really, really smooth. He led me back past the tree, and I stumbled to a halt. There was a path. A golden path. Like beautiful shiny gold that made me want to walk down it . . . and possibly dig up the sparkly bricks and put them in safe keeping. Drak. There was something wrong with my head when it came to shiny objects of late.

“My mother and father are expecting us. They live just over this way,” he said, indicating another, not shiny, path. “I’m sure they’ll have food and beds ready.”

“Wait,” I said belatedly.

I turned to see Dyter leading the horse with Tyrrik on it. I was about to walk off with sexy-schmexy Prince Phaetyn without my unconscious . . . friend . . . my acquaintance? Gah. I couldn’t leave Tyrrik.

I met Dyter halfway and put my hand back on Tyrrik as I asked, “How long is he going to sleep like this?”

Dyter lifted a shoulder. Right. Dyter doesn’t know everything.

I guess it’d be better to ask Kamoi my questions—at least the Phaetyn ones. “Do the Phaetyn all have the same powers? Can everyone do everything?”

Kamoi tucked a strand of silver hair behind his ear—could ears be hot—and came back to walk beside me. “No.”

“No . . .” Was that a no, I’m distracted? Or a no, I’m not telling you anything?

We started down the dirt path, but the road was narrow, and Dyter and the horse were forced to drop behind.

“So, do you have similar powers?” I pressed. “Phaetyn are all healers, right?”

“Yes,” Kamoi said, his eyes shifting to the left. His gaze returned to me, and he continued, “Phaetyn are all healers, but some have an affinity for animals, some for plants, some for the earth, and some, well, really only one—for people. The queen holds the most power, having the responsibility to protect our lands—”

Smoking bonfires. “Your mom is the most powerful Phaetyn?”

Kamoi chewed his lower lip as if contemplating his response. Or perhaps he was embarrassed by his mother's superpowers.

“Honestly, I think that's amazing.” I rushed to assuage his discomfort. “Does that mean you have superpowers like her?”

He chuckled, a low throaty sound, as he shook his head. Giving me a pointed look, he said, “My only superpower seems to be an inordinate amount of good luck.”

My mind blanked as our narrow path opened, and we stepped into a clearing.

The verdant grass sparkled like green emeralds. A beautiful ash tree, larger even than the elm that had just flashed images at me, sat directly in front of a pristine mansion made of rose quartz. With four spires, the house had a distinct castle feel although on a much smaller scale. And, while I was distracted by the gleaming structure for a moment, my attention snapped back to the tree.

Similar to the elm back in the sacred clearing, this tree was wide and tall. But the elm’s leaves had been green and its bark, although rough, thick and brown. This ash tree's foliage looked as though the plant had been infested with disease. The leaves of the tree were yellowed and their curled tips brittle and cracked. While the trunk was thick as well as the branches near it, the tree’s extremities were bare and broken. Twigs littered the ground beneath it. Where the elm had awed me, the sight of this tree broke my heart.

“Come, Kealani,” Kamoi said, his face twisting into concern.

Kamoi took a step forward on the path leading to the house, but I left him there and went to the ash tree, drawn once more. There was no wave of emotion calling me, except the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach left from receiving snatches of the previous queen’s life only moments before. I was tired of non-answers, hints, avoidance, and most of all manipulation. The trees wanted me to know something. I felt a duty to them.

I was tired of missing out. Of making my decisions based on the information others fed me. The trees held memories, and in my heart, I knew they spoke truth. To know that, when truth seemed so hard to come by these days, made me eager to oblige them.

Placing my hands on the grayish bark, I closed my eyes and waited. The trees didn’t take long to answer my call.

A stunning woman with wavy silver hair appeared, laughing and smiling, the joy in her eyes breathtaking. Next to her was a man, a Phaetyn, the same Phaetyn who was mated to the previous queen. He had slanting brows, high cheekbones, and full lips.

Was this Kamoi's father? There was a strong resemblance to the prince. Kamoi’s story of his parents and his childhood came back to me, and I knew I’d guessed correctly. Was this stunning woman his mother?

The image dissolved, and another took its place. The beautiful lady now wept, and the Phaetyn man pulled her into his arms. Another vision took hold, and this time, the same woman sat on a throne, rocking a tiny infant in her arms. The image faded, and then the woman knelt on the floor, alone in a dark room, holding a drawing of the previous queen, Queen Luna, while she wept. Her anguish was echoed by the tree, and my heart ached for her sorrow.

“Can you see her? How she used to be?” Kamoi asked in a rough whisper.

His warm hands covered mine, and I opened my eyes to see his violet eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Did you see my mother?” He choked on the last word, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Kamoi gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, breathing hard.

I took the opportunity to study him. This close, I noticed his lower lip was fuller than his upper, and the definition of his chest muscles peeked out from the dip in his aketon. His fists were clenched, accentuating his corded arms; his chest was broader, and instead of being lean like Tyrrik, the Phaetyn prince was much more muscular and thick, like a tree trunk.

There was something about Kamoi: his kindness, his patience, and the fact that he made me feel like I belonged with just a small touch, which spoke to me on some level. My blood knew his blood.

I reached forward and rested my palm on his cheek. He gasped and pulled me to him, wrapping me in a warm embrace. He smelled like spring, like fresh rain and herbs with an undertone of smoky pine.

His hands gripped my back, pushing into my skin. Energy pulsed between us, and I could feel his eagerness for my touch. But a memory of the torture room slammed into my mind, the feeling of being confined and trapped and out of control. Something deep inside screamed.

I pulled back from the Phaetyn prince, stepping out of his reach.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” I said, face heating. Jotun’s face, slamming doors, rows of scalpels.

I squeezed the memories away, locking them deep inside. I choked out, “I-I I did see your mother; she's beautiful. She sick, isn't she?”

“Let’s go meet her. You can see for yourself.” He held out his hand in invitation.

I looked at Kamoi’s hand, willing the shivering remnants of my panicked moment away, telling myself I was being ridiculous. He’d been nothing but nice to me, and I’d never had that response with his previous touches. But then, what we’d just shared was more than a simple hand hold. I was absolutely certain whatever just happened, the panic was dregs of darkness from inside of me, left over from the castle. I looked at Dyter watching our exchange with a furrowed brow.

There with him was Tyrrik, still unconscious and draped over the horse like a sack of potatoes. As I looked at the Drae, my heart tripped, skipping a few beats. Swift anger followed the light sensation. Mistress moons. There was something so not right in my head. Tyrrik had lied to me from day one; I wasn’t okay with feeling anything for him. I wouldn’t feel anything for him.

Kamoi stood waiting, his hand still extended, although as he turned to follow my gaze, his hand sunk back toward his side. Before he could completely withdraw it, I resolutely reached forward and grabbed his hand and stepped closer. The way Kamoi treated me was normal. The way Tyrrik had treated me was anything but.

Kamoi's eyes lit, and he offered a tentative smile.

Dyter glared at me from behind the prince. Whatever. Dyter could be mad. He hadn't been in prison with Irrik, Ty, and Tyr. The old man had no room to judge.

But the rolling of my stomach didn't quite agree with the rationale in my head because, despite everything, my mind was churning out on repeat that my stupid heart knew what my heart knew.

And after only a couple of steps, I withdrew my hand from Kamoi's.