Pain. So much pain stirs in my chest. An unwanted, overpowering, destroying feeling, threatening to tear my heart apart.

“How did they die?” I whisper, slipping my fingers out of Jules’ and rubbing my hand over my aching chest.

Jules gives a hesitant glance at Philip. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it here.”

“I need to know”—I glare at the cat—“if his family had anything to do with their deaths.” I’m not sure why I need to know, what I’ll do. Probably something stupid that will result in me getting hurt, but my head isn’t very clear right now, too congested with deep, blinding, agonizing pain.

Philip’s eyes narrow into slits. “My family didn’t do anything to yours. I know this for a fact.”

“Then why are they locked up?” Tears pool in my eyes as sorrow continues to drown me.

Jules places a hand over mine, running his thumb along my knuckles. “He’s telling the truth. My father falsely accused his family of committing the murders; used them as scapegoats because he needed someone to blame to avoid panic in our pack. Some of our pack knows this, but …” He trails off.

“But what?” I press.

“But they’re afraid of his father,” Philip answers. “Even his own son.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Jules snaps. “There’s just not much I, or any of the others in the pack, can do. He’s the king.”

“And you’re the prince,” Philip stresses. “Which means you’ll be king once he’s gone.”

Wait. If I’m a princess, then does that mean I’ll be queen?

The aching in my chest increases. What if I am? How am I supposed to rule over a species I not only fear, but know nothing about?

“The crown has already chosen you as the official prince,” Philip adds. “All that’s standing in your way of ruling is the current king.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Jules’ tone vibrates with warning. “Because it’s sounding an awful lot like you’re suggesting I kill my father. And punishment for such a suggestion is automatic execution.”

Philip rolls his eyes. “Like you’d kill me. You don’t have it in you to kill an innocent creature, especially when doing so would result in the death of that lovely thing right there.” His eyes land on me.

Jules protectively leans closer to me. “You’re hardly innocent, Philip. But you’re right. I’m not going to kill you.”

Philip smiles smugly. “I never thought you would.”

Jules quirks a brow. “Then why did you look so nervous?”

“I wasn’t nervous,” Philip insists. “I was merely on guard.”

Jules rolls his eyes. “Sure, you were.”

My gaze bounces back and forth between the two now smiling paranormals. “So, you guys are friends now?” I’m so lost.

Jules turns to me. “Not even close. But we are on the same page.”

“Which is …?”

“That we’re going to get my family released,” Philip answers, sinking down on the armrest.

Jules bobs his head up and down, lines creasing his forehead. “It’s going to take some time. I need to figure out a way to prove to my father and the rest of his royal committee that it wasn’t cat shapeshifters who attacked our pack that day.”

“How can you be so sure it wasn’t?” I ask. “If they were accused, isn’t there some proof?”

“That’s the thing,” Jules says. “There was no real proof. My father just needed someone to blame.”

“Okay, so again, I stress, how do you know for sure it wasn’t his family?” I ignore the dirty look I get from Philip.

“Because …” Jules hesitates. “Because I know for a fact that our pack was attacked that day by werewolves from another pack.”

“You’re being very vague,” I point out. “So, why don’t we skip past my stupidly annoying human questions and you just tell me what it is I don’t know?”

Philip snorts a laugh. “She’s amusing. I’ll give her that.”

Jules appears less amused, rubbing his lips together with uncertainty. “You’re not human.”

“I’m starting to realize that,” I say. “Quit stalling.”

He sighs, staring down at my hand as he sketches circles along my knuckles. “I know for a fact that it was werewolves who attacked our pack that day because I saw brief flashes of what happened to your parents through your eyes right before you disappeared.”

“You saw what happened through my eyes?” I ask in shock. “How can that be possible when I can’t even remember what happened?”

He shrugs then sighs, elevating his gaze to mine. “You and I were kind of close when we were younger, and sometimes when werewolves are close, they develop an alterum dimidium animae, which allows them to occasionally see thoughts and dreams through each other’s eyes.”

My cheeks flush as I recall the dream I had of kissing him. “How long has it been since that happened to you? Since you last saw my dreams, I mean.”

He sucks on the metal in his lips. “Well, up until tonight, I thought it was over a decade ago. But now that I realize you’re alive, I think it may have happened two nights ago. I just didn’t realize it at the time.” His gaze drops to my lips.

I work to appear indifferent. “Well, just for the record, I have that dream a lot.”

The corners of his lips quirk. “Of kissing me?”

“What? No! That’s not what I meant.” So much for playing it cool. “I meant that I dream of kissing guys all the time. Every night, in fact.”

His mouth curves downward. “Do you spend a lot of time kissing guys?”

I shrug. I’m such a fucking liar. The only guy, besides Jules, who’s ever kissed me was a werewolf who stole my first and only kiss. A one-sided, disgusting, horrible kiss. But I don’t want to admit this to Jules. Don’t want him to think that the only guy I’ve ever dreamt of kissing is him. Don’t want him to discover that he’s the only guy I’ve ever really shared a kiss with. Or maybe I just don’t want to admit any of this to myself.

Jules looks away from me, raking his fingers through his hair.

“You’re killing the poor wolf,” Philip muses with a grin.

Jules clears his throat, staring down at his hands. “Anyway, I saw what happened to your parents in a dream you had right before you died. You must have been unconscious.” His fingers fold inward, the rings pressing against his palm and causing the skin to blister. “I tried to find you, begged you in the dream to let me know where you were, but then you faded away and …” He pushes the rings deeper into his skin. “We tried to look for you. For years, we searched for you. But the longer our alterum dimidium animae remained silent, the more everyone became convinced you were dead.”

Unable to stand his self-inflicting pain any longer, I reach over and unfold his fingers. “Stop doing that. No one here needs to know to respect you.” Although, I’m starting to question if there’s more to wearing the silver rings than just earning respect.

He stares at the blisters engraved into his palm, the skin already healing. “It’s a habit.”

“Well, it’s a bad habit.” I run my finger along his palm, noting the bumpiness of his flesh. Old scars. His palm is covered with them.

I start to pull my hand away when he twines his fingers through mine.

“Do you remember anything about what happened that day?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I already told you the farthest back my memory goes is to when I was found on the side of the road in the Common Realm.”

“The Common Realm?” Philip’s face contorts with disgust. “That’s where you’ve been for all these years?”

“It’s not that awful,” I tell him. “No worse than here.”

Instead of getting irked, he laughs. “Yeah, we’ll see if you’re singing the same tune after you’ve become reacquainted with our world.”

“Maybe I don’t plan on staying here,” I quip. “Besides, my traveler’s pass expires in twenty-four hours.”

“You want to go back?” Jules appears hurt.

I feel like an asshole. I’m not sure why. I don’t know him. Or, well, I don’t remember him, so why should I feel bad for saying I’m going to leave this realm?

Because you don’t really want to leave.

I shake my head at the thought. “I don’t know what I want. All I know is that, besides Legend, I’ve tried to keep my distance from paranormals.”

“Well, I’m guessing you didn’t do a very good job, since you are one,” Philip says with a sneer.

I flip him the middle finger, and he laughs.

Jules traces his fingertips along my knuckles. “Do you …? Do you have things that tie you there? To the Common Realm, I mean.”

I shrug. “I have a job that I’ll get fired from if I don’t show up on Monday, and an apartment full of stuff.” Sadly, that’s about it. The only other thing I had of importance in the Common Realm was Legend and now he’s here.

“What about people?”

“What about them?”

“Do you have anyone who …?” He huffs in frustration. “Do you have anyone who ties you to the realm?”

I scratch my forehead with my free hand. “What do you mean by tie? Like, friends?”

Philip lets out a dramatic groan. “Oh, my God, little wolf, will you please put your poor prince out of his misery and tell him if you have a lover back in the Common Realm?”

Jules blushes. Actually freakin’ blushes. It’s seriously the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

That thought lasts only a whopping two seconds before I realize what Philip said.

“Why would it matter if I had a lover?” I ask, blushing myself.

Philip starts to smile. “Because—”

“It doesn’t,” Jules cuts him off. “I’m just trying to figure out why you would want to go back.” He extends his hand toward my temple and grazes his finger along my birthmark. “I know you don’t remember this place, but the Midnight Realm is your home, Elo—Lake.” He molds his palm around my cheek. “And the Violet Mountain pack is your family.”

I resist the urge to lean into his touch, no matter how much my body desperately wants to. “If that’s the case, then how did I end up in the Common Realm?”

“I don’t know.” The pad of his thumb skims my cheekbone. “But we’ll find out. I promise we will. Just like I promise we’ll figure out who really killed your parents.”

I want to believe him. I really do. But … “If you haven’t found who killed them already, why do you think you can now?”

He offers me the most genuine smile. “Because we have you now.”

“But I can’t remember anything.”

“You can’t now, but there are a lot of creatures here in this realm who are excellent at retrieving lost memories.”

I momentarily forget how to breathe. “So, you’re saying I might be able to remember … everything?”

He nods. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

It seems like I should be excited, yet a heavy sense of dread crushes down on my chest. I can’t understand where the feeling is stemming from since I’ve wanted to remember from the moment I forgot. But an uneasiness is stirring inside me, a restless warning that what’s hidden in the darkest parts of my mind might be better left hidden.