“Guys, get oot!”

I groan as Arc’s loud voice wakes me. I’m snuggled between two men, warm and comfy, and I don’t want them to leave. I draw the duvet over my head, hiding from the world. Noticing that I’m naked, I think back to last night and smile. We had fun, all five of us. No wonder I’m tired.

“Wyn, get up, we dinnae have much time. Yer mother has another meeting scheduled, so we need ta do it now.”

I’m suddenly wide awake when I realise what he means. My parents. I’m finally going to see them again. Find out if they’re alright. Maybe even persuade them to come live here in the Realm with me.

Crispin gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, little Princess.”

“I’m not little!” I protest but he’s already left the bed. Storm is the next to kiss me, but he chooses my lips. I want more than just his lips on mine and open my mouth, nudging his lips with my tongue. He responds in kind, kissing me passionately, but ends the kiss far too soon.

“Be good, Princess.”

“When am I ever not good?”

He laughs. “Shall I remind you of last night?”

I blush, but Frost hugs me from behind.

“Don’t worry, you were very good last night.”

“Out!” Storm calls and they both jump out of bed, leaving me alone with my Scottish Guardian. Not that he’s actually Scottish, but his accent and dress style certainly are. He reminds me of home. Most of the guys wearing kilts in Edinburgh do it for the tourists, but still, it’s always a nice sight.

I sit up and the blanket slips down, giving Arc a nice view of my boobs.

“Put some clothes on or I won’t be able ta focus,” he growls and I laugh at his desperate look.

“Dinnae worry,” I mock his accent and am promptly rewarded by having a pillow thrown at me.

I crawl out of bed and put on a silk kimono to hide most of my nakedness from Arc. My smooth legs are still visible though and he seems to have a hard time evading his eyes. Becoming a proper Demigoddess when I entered the Realms had the pleasant side effect that I no longer need to shave. It’s saved me so much time, especially when having to wear dresses all the time.

“We need ta touch while doing this,” Arc informs me and pats his lap. He’s sat down in one of the large armchairs by the window, looking exceedingly comfy. I follow his invitation and lean against his broad chest, wiggling a little to find the best position.

“Dinnae distract me,” he complains and I stop moving. “We need ta touch but we need ta concentrate as well.”

“Okay, explain to me again how this is going to work.”

“We’re going ta connect with a demon who’s currently in front of yer parents’ hoose. If we’re lucky. Demons aren’t the most reliable people.”

From the beginning, Beira had said that it would be too dangerous to send a Guardian there. After the Calanais battle, the Scotland Gate was only used for emergencies in the fear that demons might still be lying in wait on the other side.

So a demon is our only chance. Luckily, Arc knows a few that are amenable if the bribe is high enough. It’s costing us a small fortune to get this one to do what we want, but being the Winter Heiress has its advantages. Access to the Royal coffers is one of them.

“I’ve only done this once before,” Arc warns me. “It’s not a nice feeling ta be in a demon’s head. It’s… slimy.”

He checks his watch. “It’s time. Ready?”

I nod. “Let’s do this.”

Without warning, everything goes black.

My parents’ house looks surprisingly intact. Last time I saw it, the upper floor was on fire and the street was being shook by an earthquake. My earthquake, to be precise. Now, only a few thin lines on the wall tell of what happened. They’ve either had excellent builders at work or someone helped out with magic. I’m pretty sure it was the latter. You can’t just restore an almost destroyed street back to how it was before in just a few weeks.

It feels strange looking out of the demon’s eyes. We can’t see him, just what he sees. He could be a hideous winged devil for all I know, but I’d hope that Arc has chosen one who can blend in. Or one who can do glamour magic. My parents have been traumatised enough, they don’t need a demon on their doorstep.

Knock on the door, Arc commands inside the demon’s head. Okay, now I really hope that the demon looks human.

We walk forward – well, the demon does, I’m just a passenger. It’s a very surreal feeling. I can somehow feel his body, but only in a faint way, more an echo than an actual sensation. But his vision is as clear as if it was my own eyes.

The demon knocks once, twice. Nothing happens.

What’s your name? I ask to bridge the tension.

Surprise fills the demons’ mind.

Andrew, he finally answers.

I’m having a hard time hiding my laughter. A demon called Andrew? Seriously? That is the least demony name I could think of.

I can feel Arc’s amusement through our link but hope it’s not transmitted to the demon. We don’t want to piss him off.

Finally, there are noises on the other side of the door and it slowly opens. My mother is looking straight at me. At the demon.

“Yes?” she asks tiredly. What time is it on Earth? Must be early morning, judging from her robe hastily thrown over her nightie.

She looks like she’s been up all night. Her hair is tousled and there are shadows all around her eyes. She looks older than I remember. I hope it’s just because she didn’t sleep well and not because of … well, me.

Tell her you’re here on behalf of her daughter, Arc commands.

“I’m here on behalf of your daughter,” Andrew repeats dutifully.

“My daughter isn’t here. Please leave.” Her expression darkens. She turns to close the door but Andrew puts his foot in the way.

“She’s here with me through a mental link. She wants to talk to you.”

My mum looks at him as if he’s crazy. “Prove it,” she challenges him and inside, I applaud her. Even though she’s human, she’s known about the supernatural world ever since she adopted me. She knew I wasn’t human, but she accepted that.

Tell her that she drew me magic for my birthday.

He repeats it and my mum’s eyes widen. “Tell me something else.”

I rack my brain for something only she will know. When something comes to mind, I chuckle.

“She says she believed that haggis were real until she was in her early teens.”

Mum smiles and opens the door. “Come on in.”

Andrew follows her into our living room. On the way, she shouts up the staircase for my dad to come down quickly.

“Would you like some tea?” Oh how I love my mum. Offering tea to a demon. Not that she knows… but she’d probably do the same if she knew. That’s just the way she is.

Andrew shakes his head, making me slightly dizzy.

A moment later, my dad enters the room, a bathrobe slung around his thin body. Just like my mum, he looks like he’s not had much sleep recently. His face isn’t as clean shaven as I’m used to either. What’s going on with them?

“What’s going on?”

“He’s here for Wyn,” mum tells him excitedly. “He’s got a… mental link with her, he said?”

Andrew nods. “She’s watching you right now. She can see and hear through me.”

“Impossible,” my father says with the frown usually reserved for his students.

“He knows things only Wyn would know,” mum is quick to reassure him. “Let’s hear him out.”

With a sceptical grumble, dad sits down across from Andrew, scrutinising him.

Tell them that I miss them.

“She says she misses you.”

Mum smiles. “Tell her we miss her too.”

Are they alright?

“She wants to know if you are alright.”

“A lot has happened since she left,” my mother sighs. “There have been strange—”

“Don’t tell him, he could be one of them,” dad interrupts. “You may have convinced my wife, but you’re yet to prove to me that Wyn is with you.”

He adds vanilla to his pancakes. He always makes them for my birthday.

“You make vanilla pancakes for your daughter’s birthday,” Andrew says and my father’s eyes widen.

“How much vanilla per pancake?”

One pinch of ground vanilla.

A smile spreads on my dad’s face when Andrew repeats my words. Good, now that both of them are convinced that it’s really me talking to them, we can start to talk properly.

Ask mum what she was going to say.

“We’re being watched,” my mum says before Andrew even has the chance to speak. “They follow us wherever we go. We’ve had phone calls where someone was whispering gibberish. And we’ve received these letters…”

Dad gets up and takes a stack of letters from the mantlepiece. He hands one of them to Andrew who slowly unfolds it.

WE’RE WATCHING YOU.

That’s all it says but it makes a shiver run over my back.

My father gives Andrew a second letter.

SHE WILL KILL YOU.

Who is she? I ask no one in particular. I don’t expect Andrew to know. Arc gives me a mental hug and I wish it was a real one.

Andrew reads a final letter.

INVITE WYNTER OR YOU WILL DIE.

“Of course, even if we’d known how to contact you, we wouldn’t have asked you to visit,” my mum hurries to say. “But you’re not here in person so I’m sure they won’t know it’s you.”

They’re using my parents as bait. Anger boils up in me. Someone is threatening my parents just to get to me. That’s unforgivable.

Ask them if they’ve ever seen one of the people watching them, Arc tells Andrew.

“At night, we sometimes see glowing eyes outside,” mum says with a shudder. “They’re all around the house, even in the garden. We no longer go outside after dark. At the beginning we called the police, but they never found anyone sneaking around. And nobody has ever tried to come into the house.”

Andrew suddenly gets up.

“That’s because we can’t enter without being invited in.”

He stretches out his hands and fiery ropes shoot towards my parents, wrapping around them, tying them up in seconds. They both scream in pain as the ropes burn their skin. I’m screaming too, shouting at Andrew to stop, to end this madness, but all he does is laugh as he watches my parents slump to the ground.

“Thanks for helping me, Princess. And now you better make your way to the Mistress before I accidentally kill the humans.”

He laughs in disdain. My parents are writhing on the floor as blisters are forming on the skin. I’m crying, unable to see them in so much pain.

Stop it! I cry, begging him to stop.

“The Lady Morrigan sends her regards.”

We’re thrown out of his head and back into blackness.

* * *

“Call the Queen!” Arc shouts as soon as we open our eyes, back in my bedchamber. The guys must have been in their room next door because next thing I know, three concerned Guardians are crowding me, asking me whether everything is alright.

Of course it isn’t.

My head is spinning. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real.

I curl up on the floor, my parents’ anguished faces flashing through my mind. Their pain, so much pain. Their blistered skin, the rope hurting them. The laugh of the demon who tricked us all.

“It was a trap… The demon used us to get into the house… He kidnapped her parents…”

Their words drift past me, but I can’t seem to focus on them.

My dad.

Mum.

Their pain.

Their wounds.

I failed them.

It’s all my fault.

I pull my legs close to my chest, making myself small. Maybe it’s all just a dream. Maybe they’re safe at home. Maybe…

Cool air touches my tear-streaked cheeks.

“Wyn?”

I look up at my mother. Beira. My birth mother who didn’t help my real parents. She just left them on Earth to fend for themselves. They are humans so they don’t matter to her. All that matters to her is herself. She’s selfish, cruel, cold.

Just as cold as the air on my cheek.

My magic pours out of me, fiery hot, ready to burn and destroy. I let it, I don’t care any longer. The magic takes control, relishing in its new freedom. It races through the room, setting things on fire. I can smell burning, but I stay on the floor.

“Wyn, stop it!”

People are shouting. Who cares. My parents are hurt. Maybe dead.

Cold water douses me and I shriek in shock. Someone puts his hands on my cheeks, lifting me up to look at him.

“Wyn, you need to stop.”

It’s Frost. His expression is a strange one. Fear? Of me? Or of the flames surrounding me. Then I remember. His element is water. He doesn’t like fire. I burned him before.

Oh no, I can’t hurt my Guardian. I pull at my magic, trying to reign it in but it’s too wild. Too violent.

“I can’t,” I whisper and his eyes soften.

“Yes, you can. Change your magic to water. Feel around you. Feel the snow outside, full of water you can use. I can douse the flames but they keep returning. You need to shut them off for good.”

I reach out for my water magic. It’s no use. The fire is too strong. My magic is pouncing, her claws outstretched whenever I try and approach.

“She’s too strong.” I can feel myself grow weaker, the magic taking all my strength. I should have trained her better. I should have done those lessons with my Guardians as intended. But there were always other things to do. I never got the chance. And now she’s feral and doing what she wants.

“Wyn, listen to me. Focus on water…”

Suddenly, his lips are on mine and he kisses me wildly, nudging me to respond. I open my mouth and he enters me with his tongue. He feels cool and calming. Wet. Water. I can feel his magic inside of him, a cold lake ready to be used. I draw on it and channel it into myself, dousing my magic in it. She shrieks and fights the water that is threatening her fire, but with Frost’s power, I’m finally strong enough.

I feel for the water in the snow outside, that endless resource of water, and suck it in, channelling it through myself and then out into the room. Smoke fills the air as the fire is extinguished.

But all I want to feel is Frost’s mouth on mine, our kiss, our desperation, like two people drowning. I cling to my Guardian as the last of the fires die off.

With the fire gone, tiredness claims me. I’m too weak to even continue the kiss. I sink against Frost’s chest and he embraces me, holding me close.

“Rest, Princess.”

“Will you stay?” I whisper weakly and he runs his hands over my back in response.

“Of course. I will be here until you wake up again.”

I smile and sink into the darkness waiting for me.