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As I expected, my mother sneered at me. “So you’re offering a bargain?”

“Yes,” I said flatly. “If you care to see it that way.”

“And if I say no?”

I sighed heavily. “I would prefer not to have to threaten you.”

She laughed bitterly. “What could you possibly threaten me with that’s worse than this?”

I closed my eyes, unable to ignore how familiar her words sounded. I’d said much the same thing when Bael came to offer me a way out of my own cell. “I don’t care to argue with you,” I said, my eyes still closed. “I know it would be pointless, anyway. I’d love nothing better than for this to be a happy reunion, but until I can determine if you’re trustworthy my m—men will never let you go free.”

Internally, I winced. I’d intended to say “my mates” and stopped at the last second. Even so, my mother visibly recoiled at my words.

“Those aren’t men,” she sneered. “They’re monsters. I can’t believe it—my own daughter willingly becoming a whore for the Fae royals.”

I winced. “You have it wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” she snapped. “I saw you with the Everlast prince.”

I started to ask which prince she meant, then stopped. It didn’t matter. Growing up, my mother hated Fae more than anything else in the world, and it seemed that she hadn’t changed.

“Forget about them,” I said through gritted teeth. “Let’s talk about how you ended up here. You hate the Fae, so how did you find yourself in the court of Underneath?”

She glared at me, her breath heaving with anger, before she sucked in a long calming breath. Before my eyes, she schooled her features into the same flat expression I’d just used on her. “It’s a long story.”

A shiver of discomfort trailed up my spine. "I told you, I have plenty of time," I replied hastily. "After all these years, I feel like I deserve to hear the whole story."

My mother let out a deep sigh and adjusted her uncomfortable position on the hard, cold floor of her cell. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair before finally starting to speak. “I was brought to this land thirty-two years ago when I was only six-years-old…”

4

LONNIE

THE DUNGEONS, OBSIDIAN PALACE, EVERLAST CITY

“All these years later, I still remember flashes of my old life,” Mother said. “I was often lonely, but well cared for. My family was wealthy, and I didn’t see my parents often. I was raised by our housekeeper. She was called Orla, and she was from Ireland?—”

“She was from where?” I interrupted.

“A nearby country,” she said dismissively “Orla believed in fairies, and she told me stories about them. She warned me not to venture too far into the woods, because the fairies stole pretty children.”

I swallowed thickly. I could see where this was going.

I’d known from an early age that my mother was a changeling—a human child stolen from another realm to serve the Fae. She’d spoken about it when telling Rosey and I why we should never trust fairies, however she’d never gone into so much detail.

“One day I was playing in the woods behind my house and I saw them,” Mother continued.

“The Fae?” I asked.

She shook her head. “A group of Underfae, though I didn’t know then what they were. They were barely larger than my doll, and dancing in a ring of toadstools. Being only a child, I played with them. Then, only a few days later, I was taken from my bed just as Orla promised.”

“How?” I asked, leaning forward with interest. “Why?”

Mother shook her head, as if she wished to shake the memories from her mind. “Not all humans born outside of Elsewhere can see the Fae. I was told later that all changelings were taken because they had the sight.”

Even here in Elsewhere, not all humans were able to see the tiny creatures that guarded plants and rivers. I’d always been able to see them, but never once had my mother indicated that she could as well.

“I didn’t know you could see the Underfae.” I was unable to keep a slight hint of accusation out of my voice.