Page 1

PartOne

THE LOST

Chapter1

Sorin

When Sorin Aditya woke he knew without opening his eyes that she was not in his bed, but he stretched a hand out anyway, feeling the cold space where his wife should have been. He didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping since he’d given her the last of his fire. Far longer than what used to be required of him, that he was sure of.

He hadn’t felt her get out of the bed. He hadn’t heard her slip from their bedchamber in the castle in Avonleya. His senses were as muted as they had been when he’d been in the mortal lands for three years.

He also had no way of finding her.

He could not feel her.

He could not speak to her down a bond they had once shared.

He cracked his eyes open, lifting his arm to stare at his left hand. The black Mark that had once swirled around the back of his hand and down his fingers was gone, not a trace of it left.

In fact, all of his Marks were gone. Every last one.

A mortal could not bear Fae Marks.

A mortal could not be a Source.

A mortal did not have enhanced sight or smell or hearing.

He sighed, throwing back the wool blankets and setting his feet on the ornate rug. Resting his elbows on his knees, his head fell into his hands, and his fingers dug into his ebony hair. He didn’t know where Scarlett was, but a part of him was glad she was not here to see him like this. He had made sure the last thing she had felt from him was love and warmth and everything she was to him. He had kept himself together so she could fall apart. Wiping her tears away, he had been the strength she needed him to be. He couldn’t be her Source anymore, but he could be that for her.

This felt as though he were back in the mortal lands before she had taken the wards down that prevented beings from accessing their magic. At least when he had been stuck there he had known his power was asleep just beneath the surface. He had known that the moment he stepped over the border into the Fire Court, his flames would be at his fingertips.

He would never hold fire in his palm again.

That reality was driven home when a breeze came through the open window and goosebumps erupted across his skin. They were on the brink of summer, and he was fuckingcold.

Muttering a curse, he stood and made his way to the large dressing room. Surveying his options, he swiped a hand down his face. He still wore the loose pants he’d worn to bed, but he needed something warmer than the short-sleeve options for his upper half. The only long-sleeved items he owned were ornate jackets for special occasions. He had brought a few of them from the Fire Court. He never wore long-sleeve tunics. With fire in his veins, he didn’t need them. He was always warm. Borrowing something from Briar or Sawyer was his next best option, he supposed. He lifted a hand to send the Water Court Second a message before remembering he couldn’t do that either.

He cursed again, swiping a hand across the top of the dresser, knocking everything atop it to the ground. Random weapons thudded as they landed on the floor. Smaller items clanged when they hit the opposite wall, rolling beneath clothing and shoes. He braced his hands on the dresser, his head hanging down as he tried to get control of himself. This was worth it. An adjustment period was to be expected, but giving up his magic was a cost he would pay over and over again if it meant being able to stay with Scarlett.

But how did one learn to live without a piece of themselves? How did one get used to a life without something that had been a part of them since they had entered this world?

Taking a deep breath, Sorin pushed off the dresser and padded barefoot through the princess’s suite. He made his way down the halls until he came to Briar’s rooms. The prince wasn’t here, having gone to trade himself for Princess Ashtine, but he hadn’t taken the time to pack his belongings either.

Sorin found a long-sleeved tunic hanging in the Water Prince’s dressing room, and he pulled the dark blue garment on as he made his way back to his rooms. He’d have to go into Aimonway today and get some warmer clothing. Even with the heavier fabric of the tunic he’d found, he was still chilled. He glanced down at his bare feet. Socks would probably help. At least then he wouldn’t feel the cold marble beneath his feet.

When he got back to his rooms, he put some logs in the hearth and got a fire going. It was a feat that took far longer than it should have, but it had been over a year since he’d had to do so without his fire magic. When the logs were finally crackling steadily, he stood, holding his hands above the flickering flames and letting them warm his palms. This was worse than the mortal lands. At least there, his fire had still been in his veins. Now he was just…empty. Void and cold.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, casting a glance out the windows. The sun was high in the sky. It had to be close to midday by now. Which was fine. The Avonleyans preferred the night. Their daily schedule started mid-morning rather than at sunrise. Many of the shops Sorin needed to visit wouldn’t be open until this afternoon, but by the gods, he’d slept over half a day.

And where the hell was Scarlett?

He changed into proper pants, slipping on his boots and buckling a few weapons into place. He was making his way out to the main sitting area to look for his wife and possibly find some food when a knock came at the door. Pulling it open, he found Cethin Sutara on the other side.

The King of Avonleya looked like he had been up all night and morning. He had clearly been running his hands through his shoulder-length silver hair repeatedly, and his black tunic and pants were wrinkled. Sorin was fairly certain they were the same clothing he’d been wearing yesterday, but the look on his face told him everything he needed to know.

“What did she do?” Sorin said with a sigh.

“May I come in?” Cethin asked instead, a hand going through his hair again.