I don’t know if I dream that night, or if nightmares haunt my sleep. The poison puts me too far under for me to remember anything. So when I open my eyes, for once I’m grateful for magic.

I haven’t slept like that since the day before the attack, perhaps even before then. I wonder if I slept like this before I forgot all about my werewolf life.

As exhaustion evaporates from my body, I sit up and stretch my arms above my head, practically purring over how great I feel. That is, until I note I’m sitting in an unfamiliar four-post ivory bed decorated in sheer violet curtains with a comforter and pillows to match.

“How the heck did I get from the sleigh to here?” I mumble, searching the room for signs of familiarity.

Pale purple walls, black hardwood floors, and a set of french doors where sunlight trickles in through the glass. None of this strikes any sort of recollection, which means I probably wasn’t awake when I was brought here.

Uneasiness twists in my stomach at the idea of someone carrying me to the bed while I was passed out.

Throwing the blankets off me, I sigh in relief. I’m still wearing the same skirt, shirt, and knee-high socks as I was last night. The only thing missing is my shoes. But I can handle someone taking those off while I sleep.

Now I just need to figure out where I am.

I climb out of bed, doing a bit more stretching, then pad over to the shut door. I start to reach for the doorknob, then decide to head for the french doors instead.

Flipping down the lever handle, I open the door and step out onto a balcony.

A gentle breeze gusts through my hair as I approach the railing and take in the scene. Acres of blooming trees and flowers laced with the same thorny vines that were at the entrance of the portal stretch for as far as my eye can see. Towering mountains sit in the horizon, and dirt roads zigzag across the land with hundreds of quaint houses and shops. The air hums with the chatter of people—werewolves—the air sweltering with the aroma of moonlight. Above me, the sky is painted a glistening ocean blue, the sun a violet orb shining halos of light across the city.

Wow. Jules was right; sunrise is even prettier than the night sky.

“Be careful, princess. We don’t want you falling over the balcony your first day here,” a teasing voice filters up from below me.

I peek over the railing and find Shade standing at the bottom of a hill beneath the balcony, leaning casually against a lamppost with his arms crossed. He’s dressed in a black T-shirt, matching cargo pants, and boots. Leather straps wind around his wrists, and fingerless gloves cover his hands.

“You look like you’re about to go into battle,” I remark, resting my arms on the railing.

He pushes away from the lamppost, his arms falling to his sides. “Nope. Just dressed for my job.”

“Which is?”

He winks. “Protecting you.”

“From what?”

His grin is all sorts of mischievous. “From the big bad wolves.”

“Hardee har har.” But my insides quiver, reminding me that big bad wolves do exist. “So, what? You’re just going to stand there all day?”

He nonchalantly shrugs. “And go wherever you go.”

“Does that include when I go to the bathroom?” I tease wickedly. “Or when I take a shower?”

A wicked grin starts to rise on his lips, but then his gaze darts over my shoulder and he turns around, whistling to himself.

A heartbeat of a moment later, the fragrance of moonlight and violet kisses my nostrils. I twist around, right as Jules steps onto the balcony.

I don’t know how, but he looks even more gorgeous in the sunlight, dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves shoved up. His dark hair hangs in his eyes that mirror the sky, the silver rings on his fingers glint in the light, and his tattooed arms flex as he reaches back to massage his neck.

“I knocked on the door, but you didn’t answer.” His gaze scrolls up and down my body before residing on my eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you were awake.” He seems more nervous than he was last night, less sure of himself.

“I woke up, like, ten minutes ago. I wasn’t really sure where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to do.” I lift my shoulders, shrugging. “I’m not even sure where I am or how I got here.”

“You’re at my house.” He scratches his arms, drawing my attention to the rows of jagged scars elevating from his forearm. Scars that resemble mine. “I carried you here last night. I know that’s probably what you don’t want to hear, but I tried to wake you up. You were pretty out of it.” He tugs his sleeves down, concealing the scars. “You were whimpering a little bit in your sleep.” He leaves the silent question hanging out there.

“I do that sometimes.” I look away, fidgeting with the leather bands on my wrists.

“Do you have nightmares?” he asks so gently, so cautiously I almost tell him yes.

Almost, but not quite.

I give a half-shrug. “I’m not sure. I barely remember the things I dream about.” I peek at him from the corner of my eye and frown at the faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Except for when you kissed me, right?” he teases.

I roll my eyes. “That happened one time.”

His eyes glint. “And yet, you remember the one time.”

“Only because it was so frightening.” I fake a shudder.

He steps toward me until the tips of his boots touch my toes. “If I’m remembering correctly, which I’m pretty sure I am, you were moaning while I kissed you.” A cocky grin tugs at his lips.

“That wasn’t a moan. It was a terrified gasp.”

“Whatever you say.” He continues to grin, completely full of himself.

“Why does it even matter? So what if I kissed you in some dream? It was just a dream. And you’re the one who keeps trying to kiss me in real life.”

He shrugs, not giving a shit, apparently.

I internally sigh in frustration. “So, what am I supposed to do now?”

His teeth pierce his lip as he curves his arm around my hip, sets a hand on the railing and slants closer to me. “You could always try to kiss me in real life.”

“I don’t mean with the kissing.” I place my palm on his chest to push him back, noting how fast his heart is racing. “I mean, what am I supposed to do now that I’m in your kingdom?”

“It’s your kingdom, too.” His gaze flits to my lips before he lets out a soft sigh. Then he pushes himself back and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I thought maybe I could give you a tour of the kingdom today and answer the questions I know you have. I’d also like to introduce you to a few wolves, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Your parents?” I wonder.

He flinches then shakes his head. “The king is currently visiting another pack and won’t return until next week.” His formal tone lacks emotion. “As for my mom, she’s currently on bedrest. Has been for about five years, ever since the land became poisoned.”

“The land’s poisoned?” I glimpse over my shoulder at the field. “With the vines?”

“Yeah … How did you know that?”

“Legend told me when we entered the realm that there were vines everywhere. He told me not to touch them.”

He nods. “If you do, you’ll get sick. Like my mom.”

My heart pings with agony. “Where did the vines come from? Legend said something about them spreading, but that they weren’t always here.”

“They weren’t.” He moves beside me and squints against the sunlight as he gazes at the land. “About eight years ago, they suddenly started growing. At first, we didn’t think too much of it and had the gardeners pull them out. But, by the next day, they’d grown back and had doubled in size. We quickly learned that the more we tried to get rid of them, the bigger they grew, so we stopped having them pulled. Figured they were harmless enough. That they were just thorns.” He rests his arms on the railing. “About three years after they appeared, the soil beneath them began to wilt and blacken. We realized too late that the thorns were poisoning the dirt. The same dirt that surrounds the lake where our kingdom gets its drinking water.”

My heart clenches in my chest. “Did … Did it poison everyone?”

He slowly shakes his head. “No, we found out quickly enough that only a handful of wolves had ingested it.”

“What happened to those wolves?”

“They got sick. A couple of them died.” He sinks into sorrowful silence. “My mom was one of the ones who got sick. And she’s remained sick for the last five years. Every year, on the same day she became infected, her health takes a small dip for the worst. It’s like clockwork every year, which has some speculating that the land is cursed by magic.” His jawline spasm. “My father doesn’t buy into that theory, though. He thinks the weeds were planted by another pack. So, instead of trying to find a witch to look into the curse theory, he spends his time pointlessly moving from pack to pack and questioning their leaders. Eventually, if we can’t figure out a way to get rid of the vines, they’ll end up taking over the land.”

“That’s… awful…” Is it Lake? Do you really like it here? A land where werewolves roam?

But your parents lived here too. And so did you once.

“It is, but until we can figure out where the vines come from and how to get rid of them, there’s nothing we can do about it. And unfortunately, my father doesn’t seem to care very much about it. Even for my mom’s sake.”

“I’m sorry.” Unsure what else to do, I place a hand on his arm. “I mean, that your mom’s sick. That’s got to be hard.”

He stares down at my hand on his arm with a crinkle at his brow. “You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve suffered through way worse than I ever have.”

“I guess so, but I don’t really remember any of it.” Eventually, I will, though, I realize then. At least, according to Jules, which means I’ll relive what happened the day my parents were murdered and the day my memory was wiped.

A shiver courses through my body. What if what I see is nothing but blood-splattered memories straight out of a horror movie? After all, Jules said my parents were attacked by werewolves.

I wrap my free arm around my waist, recalling how my wounds wept blood the day I was attacked. So much blood. All over me. All over the ground. All over Legend. My blood.

I would’ve died if Legend hadn’t used his vampire super speed to run me to the hospital. It took over a hundred stitches to patch me up. The scars that remain aren’t pretty, but they do remind me of the harm paranormals—werewolves—can cause. Up until now, I’ve used that reminder to keep my distance from most magical creatures. But, look at me now, standing on a balcony, with my hand on a werewolf’s arm. I wonder if that makes me weak or strong.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Jules lays a hand over mine, careful not to let the silver rings connect with my skin. “We use a different source of drinking water now. And as long as you stay off the land, in the field with the thorns, you’ll be all right.”

That worry hadn’t once crossed my mind, but I guess it’s nice to know.

“Is there a cure for the sickness your mom has?”

He rotates his body to face me and folds his ring-less hand around mine. “Not that I know of, but my father hasn’t been very invested in finding a cure. He’s too busy roaming from pack to pack, questioning the leaders about the vines. Or so he says.”

“Have you ever thought of searching for a cure yourself?”

“I have, and I’ve found a few spells that have slowed down the damages of the illness, but the effects only last a couple of days, and then the symptoms come back full-force.”

“What’re the symptoms?”

“They resemble the after effects of a wilting soul spell, but she hasn’t lost her soul, so that can’t be what’s cursed her or the land.”

“A wilting soul spell? That sounds awful.”

He reclines against the railing, turning my hand over so my palm is facing the sky “It is. The spell’s very rare. Only a higher mountain witch can cast one.”

“I’m guessing those are very powerful witches,” I state, and he nods. “So, why don’t you just track one down and have them try to get rid of your mom’s illness? I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

He gives me a funny look. “It’s a very good idea, and I’ve thought about doing it many times, but they’re hard to track down. And most of them reside in the Sun Moon Realm. I don’t have clearance to enter there.”

“I thought paranormals could travel to any realm without clearance, except for the Common Realm.”

“Most can, but werewolves have been banished from the Sun Moon Realm.”

“Why? What’d you do?” I’m half-joking, half-worried.

“I didn’t do anything,” he insists. “My father did.”

The more he speaks of his father, the less I’m looking forward to meeting the Violet Mountain pack king. “Okay, then what did he do?”

“He stole a witch.”

I stare at him blankly. “He stole a witch?”

He raises a shoulder. “That’s what I said.”

“I know, but … who steals a witch? And how? And didn’t the witch cast a spell on him for doing so?”

“She couldn’t. He was in wolf form.”

“So, witches can’t cast spells on werewolves when they’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “Very little can harm us when we’re our true selves.”

I scrunch my nose. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my true self consists of messy hair, no makeup, and my pajamas, sitting in bed and streaming videos while I listen to Legend point out how unrealistic every movie is, especially the paranormal ones.”

“What are videos?”

“You don’t have videos here?” Lovely.

“What are they? Maybe if you tell me, I can get you some.”

“They’re these things—recordings of people acting out scenarios—and you watch these recordings to entertain your mind when you’re bored.”

Curiosity sparks in his eyes. “And what sort of things are these people doing?”

“All sorts of things. Like, saving the world, getting chased by zombies, doing extraordinary things, falling in love.”

“But, isn’t it much better to do that stuff in real life, instead of watching someone else live these experiences?”

“I guess so.” His statement really makes me overanalyze the last decade of my life. “But life is pretty dull in the Common Realm, and not a lot of people can do things like save the world and get chased by zombies.”

His tongue traces along his upper lip. “But they can fall in love?”

I nod. “That’s the one thing they’re actually good at. But they don’t fall in love like paranormals do. Or, at least how Legend told me vampires do.”

He stares down at my hand as he sketches a line along my palm. “And how did he say vampires fall in love?”

My teeth sink into my tongue as a shiver threatens to quiver through me. “Well, he told me that it takes them a very long time to find the love of their life, a few centuries at least. But when they do find their one and only, they love them for eternity. Which seems a little extreme if you ask me. I mean, vampires are immortal. That means they love the same vampire forever. Literally.”

His gaze elevates to mine. “You don’t buy into the theory that a vampire can love only one vampire forever?”

I lift a shoulder. “I’m sure it’s true for vampires, but I spent a lot of my life living around humans, and it definitely doesn’t work that way for most of them. Maybe a few, but not all of them.”

He absentmindedly nods. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Yeah, all the time,” I tease. “In fact, I try to fall in love every week, at least. But it’s actually quite tiring—falling in love, I mean—so I’ve been on sort of a love sabbatical for the last few months.”

He rolls his tongue in his mouth, suppressing a grin. “So, falling in love is tiring? Glad to know. Guess I’ll try to avoid it, then.”

“You probably should.”

“I definitely will.”

“Good.” I can’t stop a smile from rising on my face. “You know I’m just kidding, right? I’ve never actually been in love. I’ve barely been able to talk to anyone over the last decade, well, minus Legend, let alone give my heart and soul to someone.”

A bit of relief combined with concern washes across his expression. “Did humans not talk to you while you were in their realm?”

“No, they did talk to me sometimes, but the stuff they said wasn’t very nice and only required a one-sided conversation.” I pretend to be engrossed with the view to the side of me.

He cups my chin and turns my face toward his. “What sort of stuff did they say to you?”

“It doesn’t really matter. After I turned eighteen, I didn’t have to be around people anymore.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, his gaze blazing with such intensity that I expect his eyes to shimmer violet again. But they remain a piercing, persistent blue. “Because I want to know what your life’s been like. I want to know what happened to you when you left here. I want to …” He pauses, taking a measured breath. “I want to know all about you.”

“My life in the Common Realm wasn’t that fascinating,” I assure him. “It pretty much consisted of bouncing around foster homes, going to school, and working. Humans weren’t fans of me, so I tried to keep my distance as much as possible. It got kind of lonely, yet I never really wanted their company, which really never made any sense. But it’s how I felt.”

“You probably felt disconnected because you weren’t surrounded by your own kind.” He lowers his hand from my chin, positions himself in front of me, and places his hands on the railing, pinning me between his arms. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. That I didn’t save you that day.” He gazes off over my shoulder, a portrait of regret. “I should’ve saved you.”

“What happened to me wasn’t your fault,” I tell him, thrown off by his sadness. Why does he care so much about this? About me? What isn’t he telling me? “You were like, what? Eight years old? How were you supposed to save me?”

“Because I should’ve … I should’ve gotten to you quicker.”

I can hear the sizzling of skin scalding. I want to reach back and flick his fingers away from those damn rings, but his arms secure me where I stand.

“Jules, what happened to me, it wasn’t your fault,” I try my hardest to alleviate some of his guilt.

“You can’t even remember what happened.”

“Yeah, so what? Just because you didn’t get to me in time, doesn’t make it your fault. Besides, you were a child, so even if you had gotten to me in time, I highly doubt the situation would’ve ended well. It probably would’ve ended worse … with more deaths.” A dull ache prods at the center of my heart. Desperate to get rid of the feeling and the sullen mood lingering between us, I aim for a joke. “And then who would’ve been around to figure out who I am and kiss me without my permission?”

He doesn’t so much as crack a smile. “Do you know that werewolves love forever, too? We’re not immortal or anything, but we love just as fiercely as vampires. Maybe even more so.”

“I didn’t know that. Honestly, I don’t really know much about werewolves.”

He quietly sighs, his gaze meeting mine. “I know, and I’d like to change that.”

“You want to teach me about werewolves?”

My feelings about that are conflicted. On one hand, I don’t want to wander around this kingdom entirely clueless, but I’m also afraid of what I’ll learn about my kind and about myself.

He nods. “Yes, if you’ll let me.”

I exhale slowly. “I guess so. I mean, I’m here, so I probably should.”

He frowns at my lack of enthusiasm. “Last night, you mentioned crossing paths with a couple of werewolves in the Common Realm. What were they like?”

I keep a neutral expression, despite my pounding heart. “I don’t know. We barely crossed paths.”

His eyes search mine. “They knew you, though.”

I give an unsteady shrug, staring at my feet. “They called me Elora, but at the time, I didn’t know my real name.”

He levels his gaze with mine. “What else did they say to you?”

That they were going to hurt me, which they did.

That they were going to break me, which they almost did.

That they were going to kill me the moment Legend left my side, which they didn’t, but only because I’m here.

“Not much, really.” My heart is thundering, about to explode and take me out with it. Not wanting to be in front of Jules when I break the fuck down, I duck under his arm. “I should probably take a shower and change before you show me around town.” My twitchy behavior is more than suspicious.

Fortunately, Jules lets me off the hook, nodding his head.

I think I might start liking him in that moment. Just a little bit, of course.

“You have your own private bathroom.” He points inside the room at a door on the far back wall. “I think Legend said something about sending your backpack here, and that he’d try to do it before you woke up. But if you need clothes and stuff, I can get you some.”

I lean to the side and spot my backpack in a chair beside the bed. “My bag’s here. I’ll probably need to pick up some new stuff, though. Legend made me pack light because he was afraid the guards at the portal would get suspicious.”

“Okay, just tell me what you need and I’ll have someone pick stuff up for you.”

“I can get it myself. I just need you to show me where the stores are.” I recall the coins Legend gave Rune last night. “Wait. What kind of money do you use here? And do you have converter stations?”

He shakes his head. “No to the converter stations, and we use Midnight coins when we purchase stuff. But a lot of times, we just use magic.”

“You have magic powers?” For some stupid reason, I glance at his fingers, like sparks are about to shoot from his fingertips.

“All wolves have a little bit of magic. It’s what allows us to shift. I have a little bit more because I’m prince, and my father has the most. Well, my mother used to until she got sick.” Anguish seeps into his tone.

The sting in my heart increases, almost as if I can feel the agony. “What sort of things can you do?”

A lopsided smile tilts at his lips, then he leans in, his breath hot against my ear. My heartrate accelerates, and not out of fear. No, the emotions pulsating through my body are the exact opposite. “Maybe if you’re really lucky, I’ll show you exactly what I can do,” he whispers.

This time, I can’t stop from shivering, my back arching, my chest pressing against his. He groans at the contact, sliding his hand across my hip, brushing his fingers along the sliver of flesh peeking out between the waistband of my skirt and shirt. The sliver of flesh branded with scars.

Heat douses over me, and I step back, putting space between us.

Worried he’ll somehow see what I keep locked away inside, I smile sweetly at him. “I think I’ll pass. I’ve already been shown plenty of stuff in my lifetime.” Then I snatch my bag, close the door, and lock myself in the bathroom.

I flatten my back against the closed door, panting for air and sick to my stomach. My body and mind are left swimming in a whirlwind of confusion.

Never have I reacted that way toward anyone before. After the werewolf attack, I could barely stand being touched. Then Jules enters my life and suddenly I’m letting him touch my scars after he whispers innuendos in my ear.

My stomach churns with queasiness as the moment triggers a series of flashbacks.

The werewolf’s disgusting tongue in my mouth.

The foul stench of his breath.

The unbearable heat of his body as he held me against the ground.

The bruising pain of his grip.

“You should be dead,” one of the werewolves whispers in my ear as he pulls my skirt up. “And you’re going to be once we’re finished with you.”

Tears spill from my eyes as my soul ruptures.

“First, we’re going to play.” He creeps his hand up my legs. “Then we’re going to kill you”

“Why?” I managed to choke out.

“Because your existence can’t be,” he whispered in my ear. “And this will kill him.”

I never did figure out who he was. Maybe if I told Jules about what happened to me that day, he would know. Maybe he would know the werewolves who attacked me.

The idea of doing so, of telling Jules how broken I am … How can I when I can hardly even stand thinking about that day?

Moving away from the door, I strip my clothes off then climb into the shower, cranking the temperature up and letting the hot water momentarily burn away the painful memories.