I shot up as a scream tore past my lips. My bones rattled with fear, and my heart pounded in my chest. The room around me was dark with only moonlight streaming through the curtain. A black raven zoomed past the window, shrieking a few times before it flew off into the night.

Was I still in a vision? Was this real? Images slid through my mind and choked the air from my throat. Sweat trailed down my brow. My visions had come less frequently since the war, but when I did have one, the recovery was horrendous. Each time it took me longer than the last to center myself.

“Majesty?” A man burst through the door, his huge blue eyes lighting up where his dark skin blended with the night. He held a raised sword. “What’s wrong?”

All I saw was a weapon. Threat. With primal instinct, I scrambled out of the bed and sprinted for the glass doors leading outside.

“Majesty,” the man yelled as I tore through the doors. “Sturt, she’s heading out the back.”

Ten steps out the door a huge red-headed man stepped around, his hands held out like he was trying to corner a wild animal.

Trapped.

Panic lathered in my veins like soap, bubbling and expanding. Something deep inside tickled my throat wanting to protect me, and words I didn’t understand spoke in my ear. But in my gut I sensed their significance.

Attack. Kill.

Horror flushed through a part of my brain. I don’t hurt people.

I bit down on my lip and kicked back, turning the other way when a woman came around the corner, blocking my escape.

Terror seized me, and I whirled around seeing them approach me from all different angles. I had been here before. Surrounded. Strighoul. Warehouse. Death.

The unfamiliar terms continued to twitch at my throat, desperate to be uttered. The tangy flavor of blood slid over my taste buds as my teeth dug deeper into my lip, trying to hold the spell back. What was wrong with me? Where was this coming from? The malevolence churning in my stomach scared me as much as the people encircling me. I could no longer understand what was real or a dream. Visions no longer kept their distance. They were as real as my everyday life. They could touch me, hurt me...

“Majesty, it’s us,” the woman said. I was familiar with her dark chocolate skin, her violet eyes, and her black hair pulled back in a braid. Still, dread coursed through me, flowing out my pores in streaming sweat.

They all took another step forward, closing in on me. No. My heart fluttered against my chest, and stole more of my air. Fright clawed through my ribs, stretching out, spurring my legs to run. The person by the door had left a gap for me to get back inside, and I took it. Sprinting past him, I darted into the room, going for a door at the far wall.

I swung the door open, my brain registering it was a closet. A massive one but a dead end. I clawed through the hanging clothes, the garments shielding me from view and giving me a false sense of safety. I hit a corner and flipped around and pressed my back to it. I curled in a ball, my limbs trembling. I tucked my head down and rocked. My mouth moved, uttering, “Is it real?” over and over, needing an anchor.

The floor resonated with the sound of boots pounding into the room.

“Lea, go get Torin,” a man with a Scottish accent said.

“The one night off he’s given himself in months. He’s going to be so furious with himself,” the woman replied.

“He always is anyway.” Another guy snorted, sounding like the first one who ran into my room.

My room? Was this mine?

The woman retreated while the rest kept guard. Tiny specks of understanding nipped at my conscious, but distress kept me locked in a ball, chanting. I needed something to moor me to reality.

A few minutes later, the thumping of feet echoed from down the hall, and a man ran into the room, along with the woman they had called Lea and a tall brunette woman, her hair pulled back in a long ponytail.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” The moment the man spoke, I felt a dash of calm brush my shoulders, and the blackness inside dissolved. I knew that voice. I peeked out through the clothes.

Tall, broad, with piercing blue eyes and dark hair pulled back in a tie. He was gorgeous, but they all were here. Recognition flickered through my head.

“She woke up screaming. Rowlands came running in thinking she was being attacked. She freaked out and ran. She’s been rocking in the corner, chanting his name over and over.”

“His name?” Blue Eyes asked.

“The dweller’s.”

The dark-haired man frowned, rubbing his head. “Okay, I got it from here. Get back to your posts.” The men and women nodded and headed out of the room. He clearly was the leader. Could he help me?

I knew I had to do something. Images itched at the back of my mind, wanting to tell me something. Fear and grief punctured my nerves like porcupine quills. Something horrible was going to happen.

“Georgia?” The guy grabbed the brunette’s arm, the one he ran in with. “Update Thara when she returns from her errand. I’d like to see her and Castien first thing in the morning.”

Castien. Thara. Another flood of awareness circled around those names. They both made me feel safe, warm, connected.

The girl nodded and slipped out of the room, shutting the door.

He turned to me. My eyes tracked him as he slowly moved to me.

“My lady?” His voice sounded calm and smooth. “Do you know where you are?”

I stayed quiet.

He walked up to me, squatting down. My back pressed against the wall.

“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked, his gaze rolling over me.

My lady. Yes, that felt familiar.

“Another vision?” He reached out to touch me, and I jerked back. Anchor. I needed my anchor though I couldn’t recall what that was.

“Are you real?” I whispered.

“Yes. This is all real,” he replied.

My head spun, more and more beads of understanding setting in.

What do you hear? A voice spoke in my head.

“I hear my pulse pounding in my chest.” I rubbed my temple, tugging on my ear.

What do you smell? The deep voice came again.

“I smell leather and flowery shoe deodorizer.” I took a deep breath, my heartbeat slowing.

What do you feel?

“I feel the soft rug between my toes.” With one last long exhale, my brain clicked out of feral mode, cascading me back to reality.

My closet.

My castle.

Torin.

Vision.

“Oh god!” Breath tripped up in my throat, and I leaped up. “Lars! Marguerite!”

“Whoa.” Torin grabbed me. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”

“What day is it?” I remembered Marguerite got Sundays off to visit her family, and she always wore her Sunday dress.

“It’s Sunday.”

It was dark, so was it either late Sunday or early Sunday morning? My brain couldn’t remember.

“It’s almost ten at night, my lady.”

Right. I went to bed early with a headache.

“I need to talk to Lars.” I tried to push past him, but he held me in place. “Let me go! They’re going to be attacked by strighoul. Marguerite is going to be killed. I need to stop it!” If I remembered correctly, she usually returned to the compound around eleven after an evening dinner with a cousin.

“Sturt!” Torin whirled around, yelling. The tall ginger-haired man came instantly into the room. Now that I was in full capacity again, I knew his face. He was one of my personal guards.

“What?” Sturt burst in the room and looked around, ready for something to jump at him.

“Get word to Lars there is going to be an attack tonight on his compound. Marguerite is in danger.”

Sturt’s eyes whittled down in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t question me. Go now!” Torin yelled. Sturt swiveled around and ran.

Shoving from Torin’s grip, I followed, running to where we kept the private phone to Lars, which was more of a walkie-talkie. The fall of barriers between the Otherworld and Earth had destroyed a lot of technology. Some earth-made devices couldn’t handle the abundance of magic thickening the air now and they fizzled out. Lars was a leader in developing new magic-resistant products like cars, airplanes, and phones.

Sturt was already speaking with Lars’s new assistant. Since Rez’s departure, Lars had gone through assistants like he did designer suits. Some lasted a day, some almost a week. This one had only been there a few days.

“I’m sorry, what do you want me to relay to the King?” The woman’s voice sounded annoyed.

“You’re going to be attacked,” Sturt growled into the device.

“This compound is impenetrable. I highly doubt we have anything to worry about,” her snooty tone clipped.

“Lady, if you don’t hand me over to the King—”

I reached up, grabbing it from Sturt.

“Listen to me, this is the Queen. Get me Lars. Now!”

“Maj-Majesty. I apologize. If I had known—”

“I don’t care! Lars. Now.” I strangled the device, wishing it was the girl’s neck.

The walkie-talkie went silent. I began to fidget as I waited for her to reach Lars. Would I be too late once again? Could I change what I saw, or was I always cursed to see what was coming and not prevent it?

The phone crackled. “Ms. Johnson?” Lars’s familiar voice spoke over the airwaves. “What is wrong?”

“Lars, send someone to retrieve Marguerite. Now,” I demanded. Lars was not one to be told what to do, but he also knew not to question a woman who could see the future.

“Goran!” I heard him shout. A bustling of feet came over the airwaves. “Get Marguerite. She’s at Russell’s. She likes to take the number ten bus back.”

“Yes, sir,” Goran replied. A door slammed.

“Lars?” I pushed the side button. “Get men to sweep the outer forest. Strighoul are going to attack the compound soon. Whatever magic they have, they are able to get through this time.”

Lars bellowed for Rimmon, relaying what I told him to his frontline of defense. Rimmon was the size and build of a house. He never said, but I suspected he was half giant or ogre.

“Anything else, Ms. Johnson?” Lars’s voice was brusque, but in complete control.

“Don’t let them get Marguerite.” I put a hand to my chest, which ached at the “memory” of her dead eyes in my vision. We had lost too many already. I really think Marguerite would tip us over, and for sure it would Lars. His clear love and respect for her were beyond reproach. Ember and Marguerite were the only two I knew who had the power to challenge Lars and get away with it.

“I won’t let them get her,” he replied firmly. “I’m indebted to you for this warning. I must go.” With that the walkie-talkie shut off.

I hated not being there, not knowing if they would get Marguerite safely, or if I failed again. I stood there, the device clenched to my chest, the bones in my fingers aching at the pressure of my grip.

“My lady, there is nothing you can do now.” Torin stepped up, prying the phone from my hands. Taking away my only tie to the King, my legs began to move. I paced across the room, twisting my hands until pain darted up my arms. I felt desperate and frantic to know what was going on. To be able to change at least one vision. I had no idea why Marguerite would take a bus, but I doubted it was because Lars wanted her to. She was one of the few he couldn’t dominate. If she insisted she wanted to take the bus, she would.

“I will send some men over,” Torin said softly, hooking the phone back in place. “They will report immediately what is going on.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, and my gaze went to his. I was so grateful for Torin. He seemed to know without a word what I needed.

“Order the troops stationed closest to the King’s property to assist.” Torin nodded to Sturt; the Scottish guard bowed and hurried out of the room.

“Majesty.” Torin placed his hands gently on my shoulders, leading me out of the room, back down the hallway. He moved close to me, his tall muscular built comforting me with his nearness. He was also trying to block me from watching eyes. It was still early but as soon as people spotted their Queen running down the hallway in a T-shirt and underwear they clustered together, whispering in hushed tones.

I held my head high, ignoring the stares as Torin led me back to my rooms. Aneira, the former queen, had been off-her-rocker crazy, but I was the one who had them gossiping like a bad game of telephone. Fae had never liked Druids, but one who was also a powerful seer made them even more uncomfortable.

Lea and Rowlands were waiting at the door when we returned. It was their night to guard the crazy Queen. I liked them but didn’t fully trust them yet like I did Torin, Castien, and Thara. They bowed when I passed, as Torin took me all the way into my chamber. After a year, I still hadn’t bonded with this room. It felt foreign and impersonal.

I patrolled the door, not able to relax as we waited for word. Every second tripled in time. Even though it was Torin’s night off, he still carried his walkie-talkie, ready to be called upon at a moment’s notice.

A crackle came over the airwaves, making me jump, my heart in my throat. “Sir? This is Cyren, captain of the fourteenth.”

“Report.”

“Everything is clear. The strighoul had run off by the time we got there.”

Air I didn’t know I was holding flew out of my lungs.

“Whatever they were planning, the King’s men stopped it. But the magic the strighoul were going to use to attack was powerful and strange. I never felt it before.”

Strange?

“What about Marguerite?” I stepped forward, my hand plastered against my throat.

“The human woman? Any word on her?” Torin asked Cyren.

“Yes, I saw Goran taking her into the house. She was unharmed.”

My legs bowed, and I leaned into the bed, weak with relief. Thank goodness she’s okay. Joy filled my chest. I stopped it. I actually prevented a vision from happening for once.

“Thank you, Cyren. Head back to your post.”

“Yes, sir.”

Torin clicked off the device and silence filled the room.

“You did it, my lady. You prevented the attack.”

All the tension I’d been holding flowed out with a sob. I slid off the bed to the ground. My back rocked into the bed as I let go. I cried with relief because I had saved Marguerite’s life, but it also let in a deeper grief: I hadn’t been able to save my family, or Ian, or Jared.

Torin sat next to me and wrapped me in his arms. The warmth of him soothed my tense muscles, and I curled into his chest. He held me till the tears subsided, his hand rubbing my back in circles. Over the last year, he had become my friend, confidant, and security blanket. Being Queen was lonely and frightening. His support had become my lifeline, keeping me from drowning under the weight of my position. I didn’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t here.

I sighed, snuggling farther into his protective embrace. He tightened his hold, his chin tucking over my head. “Thank you,” I whispered, pulling back just enough to peer up at him. Torin’s blue eyes stared down, his eyes searching mine. We were so close, our mouths only inches apart. My heart squeezed and I struggled to swallow. His eyes dipped down to my lips causing heat to flame up my neck into my cheeks. His fingers gripped my back tighter, his head leaning slightly toward me.

Holy nerf herder. Was Torin going to kiss me? Emotions I couldn’t decipher thundered over me like a tidal wave. “I’m sorry.” I jerked back, looking away, fear gripping my lungs in a vise. “You had a night off, and I ruined it.”

“Don’t ever apologize, my lady.” His words were soft, intimate, spiking my heart to thump harder. “Not for that and not for earlier.”

Earlier? Right. Another “episode.” Now that I knew everything was all right with Marguerite and Lars, my previous breakdown came flooding back with the darkness I had felt inside. I could no longer recall the spell wanting to break free, disappearing as mysteriously as it came. I shoved it away, centering on what I did understand. “They must think I am a freak.” I tapped my head on my knees.

“No. Unique maybe. They’ve never dealt with many Druids before. But we’re all adjusting. And so are you, my lady.”

“Adjusting?” I snorted. “Is that what this is? This place still doesn’t feel like home. Not sure it ever will.” Since I moved in, I tried to get rid of anything reminding me of Aneira, which was hard because this castle and pretty much everything in it represented her. I had no time to meet with someone to go over major renovations with my time spent on making sure my kingdom wasn’t attacked or falling apart.

It had been fourteen months since my coronation as Queen, when Luuk had threatened us with an uprising. Luuk was a noble fae and very powerful, controlling half the European Seelie under Aneira. He had terrorized me at my coronation, claiming he would bring my reign to a quick end. His warning echoed daily in my head, not letting me forget. His face, because of his albinism, was also hard to forget. His threats hadn’t happened overnight or in some big declaration of war. No, he was making his mark in smaller attacks: violence bombings at markets in Europe frequented by pro-Queen communities, or violence in places in America that promoted me as leader. Was he behind tonight? Would Luuk go as low as hiring strighoul? Aneira had done it. Luuk was just as devious and crooked. I guess he would follow in her footsteps. And like all terrorists, he hid behind others actually doing the dirty work. He was excellent at taking claim for something then disappearing for months. The attacks were becoming more frequent, with more people joining the cause, and so far we had very few leads on him. Daily, I went round and round for hours only to end with nothing more than what we came to the table with. It was grueling and aggravating.

Torin’s hand brushed mine, and I let him lace our fingers together. “I’m sorry you have to suffer those visions. It tears me apart how much they hurt you.”

My head fell on his shoulder, taking solace in him. His friendship meant the world to me. I trusted only a core group here, but I went to Torin for everything. As my First Knight, we spent so much time together it was inevitable we would grow close.

I loved our time together and looked forward to spending the day with him. But I didn’t know how I felt beyond that. He had given me plenty of signs he wanted more but didn’t push. At first his feelings seemed to stem from gratitude because I gave him back his title, pride, and reason for being. The darkness in him altered after he became First Knight again, and he stared at me like I was his sun, beaming down on him, giving him life.

Then after nights and days of us talking and laughing, his stare grew hungrier, looking at me a bit different. I couldn’t deny there were many times I thought about crossing that line. I had feelings for him, but I didn’t know if they simply came from me being grateful to him. Besides the numerous times he already saved my life from attacks out on the street, he had given me laughter and comfort when I thought I could never feel happiness again due to so many things: Jared’s and Owen’s deaths, finding out my family had perished in the war, becoming a Queen who many hated... losing him…

“You better get some sleep.” Torin squeezed my hand, getting to his feet. “You have an early morning tomorrow.”

I sighed. At eight I was talking budgets, at ten a meeting about sending more men over to Europe to track Luuk’s militia, and noon was about how to deal with the growing racial problem between fae and humans.

“Yeah. Sleep would be good.” I nodded. He tugged me up, his fingers still intertwined in mine. I remained jittery from the vision and Marguerite’s rescue, but the adrenaline slowly ebbed from me. Hopefully I would crash.

“Sleep well, my lady.” He faced me, his frame towering over mine.

“Thank you again, Torin, for everything.” I looked up at him.

He didn’t step away, his body close to mine, tension beating in the space between us like a drum. The dark room shrouded us, creating a bubble of just him and me. “Always, my lady,” he whispered. His gaze dropped again to my mouth.

This time I knew he was going to kiss me. I felt his form lean down a hair, freezing me in place. I wasn’t sure if the terror I felt was because we were going to cross the line or if I wasn’t ready. He inched closer, heat from his lips emanating against mine.

An image of blazing green eyes fired through my head like an arrow, wrenching my heart. My legs shot back, away from Torin, air sucking through my teeth. Awkward silence dripped like rain from the ceiling, drenching the room.

“Uh.” I stared at Torin’s chin, not able to meet his eyes. “I better get some sleep. Don’t want to fall asleep in my meetings.”

Hurt flicked so fast through Torin’s face I wasn’t sure if I saw it. He looked down, clearing his throat. “I will have a large coffee waiting for you first thing.” He bowed his head, turning for the door. “Good night, my lady.”

“Night.” A rush of guilt tumbled around in my stomach at the sight of his deflated shoulders.

After what had happened between him and Ember, her choosing Eli instead of Torin, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was cause him pain. He was an amazing man, and I absolutely adored him. The more time we spent together, the more I realized we were alike: studying, lists, memorizing facts, always being prepared. We both reveled in order and precision. Granted, we wouldn’t be an exceptionally impulsive couple, but we were certainly compatible. So what was my problem? What was stopping me?

I flopped on the bed, burying my head in my comforter. I could lie to myself all I wanted, but I knew what was blocking me. Or who caused me to skitter away from Torin like a mouse.

Torin didn’t bring it up, but he knew I chanted his name when I was having one of my “episodes.” Humiliating. I hadn’t known I was doing it at first. His voice also filled my head at those terrifying moments, asking me the three questions, calming me down. The man who haunted my dreams and heart.

It had been sixteen months since he walked away from me in the tunnel. My coronation was the last time I’d seen him, and it had been so brief I still questioned if my mind made him up.

Overhearing conversations at the dweller ranch when I visited, I knew he was around, but none of the dwellers spoke of him to me, nor did I have the guts to ask. People in the castle liked to gossip, and I had heard he was making his way through every woman’s bed he encountered. Even my employees.

Sneaking into the kitchen one night to get a snack, I walked in on two of the staff giggling and comparing notes over their “mind-blowing” encounter with the dweller. I almost vomited. Whirling around, I ran out of the room. He can sleep with anyone he wants. I don’t care. But no matter what I told myself, nothing eased the deep ache in my heart, like fire irons branding lines across my chest. He was perfectly fine without me. Happy and back to his old ways.

I wasn’t.

The memory of that night looped in my head, torturing me relentlessly. The cruel things I had said. The pain was so deep over Jared; I wanted someone else to hurt like I did. To feel the mercilessness of my agony. It was selfish and malicious because Lorcan was hurting just as much if not more over the loss of Jared. Not an hour went by I didn’t internally flog myself for causing him more agony.

 

“Ken—”

“Shut up, there is nothing you can say. Nothing will make this right. We were selfish and cruel, and Jared is dead because of our actions. We. Killed. Him. What we did, I hate myself for it, for making such a huge mistake. I will never forgive myself…and I will never forgive you.”

“You don’t think I feel as guilty? That I’m not devastated? But what we did? It was not wrong or a mistake. I’m in love with you, Kennedy.”

Those words haunted me, tormenting me. I wanted to go into my memory and change what I said next. Have a different outcome.

“Remember when you said if you truly believed I wanted nothing to do with you, you’d walk away? Do you believe me now?”

“Yes,” he murmured and turned away, striding out of the tunnel.

And out of my life.

Forever.

 

I still believed what I said to him. We caused nothing but pain and death to those around us. It was for the best. It would have never lasted anyway, but it didn’t take away from the persistent yearning in my soul. I was constantly restless, never sitting too long, itching to move and find something to help. I roamed over this entire castle and grounds daily, never fulfilling the emptiness.

At first I had thought Jared haunted me, never letting me find peace. But I knew Jared was too good, too sweet, to ever wish me grief. Even when he was dying, he told me he loved me, knowing I had been with Lorcan. I ripped out his heart and set it on fire in front of him, and he still forgave me.

Only one person would take glee in torturing me, crushing me in his hand. I pulled my head up, staring out the doors to the moonlight glistening off the lake below. He was somewhere out there, screwing a woman and pounding a nail into my heart, not letting me move on.

“Damn you, Lorcan Dragen.”