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Iwalked down a narrow stone hallway, gilded doors lining both sides. The cloaked man walked beside me.

"That last dream — it was one of Jaiel's memories, wasn't it?"

The figure didn't respond.

"Is that why I still remember the ballroom? The storm didn't destroy my memory of it. It destroyed his?"

I'd been thinking about it since the last dream, and that was the only thing that made sense. He'd been in that ballroom the same as I, and the only person I'd heard called 'Roain' was him.

My chest ached at the memory of his mother — no, I refused to call her that — thatwomanrejecting him.

The figure's only response was to stop in front of an iron door with an unfamiliar crest in the center.

"Here. You willfind answers inside."

A pained breath slid past my teeth as I looked from him to the door, then back.

"Fine. But before I go, who are —"

He put a hand on my back and shoved me through the doorway with a frustrated grunt. I could practically hear him muttering behind me.

Fuck him.

I stumbled through the door, emerging into an ornate room with high ceilings, beautiful tapestries, art hanging neatly along the walls. Before me stood a set of tall, gilded doors guarded by two men in silver armor.

The guards didn't react to me, just like the previous dream, as another guard appeared, pulling a boy by his arm.

I jumped out of the way as the gilded doors opened, and they strode through.

I followed them into a massive throne room — attention caught by the boy. Jaiel was slightly older than in the last memory — hair a little longer, and face less round.

Anger flared in my chest as I noticed the shackles on his wrists … and the raw skin peeking out from beneath them.

The guard shoved him, and child-Jaiel cried out as his knees hit the marbled floor before a trio of raised thrones. On the largest and tallest throne sat a human man. He was tall, with wide shoulders, a sharp smile, and he wore a gaudy, jewel-encrusted crown atop his blonde hair.

The other thrones were lower and held the Fae woman from the previous dream and a man who I assumed to be the Fae king — Jaiel's father. He had the same blue eyes, though they held only cold fury instead of Jaiel's warmth.

My throat tightened as the young-Jaiel cowered before them.

"Hello, hollow prince," the human king said. His voice boomed unnaturally in the large room, amplified by some unseen force. "I have wonderful news. My dear counterpart, King Torsten, has found a use for you. Something about using your empty soul to hold one of her little relics …"

The boy looked up, chains clanking.

"I — I don't understand. Are you sending me away?" His expression was full of betrayed horror. "But I've done as you asked. I've stayed away from you — I haven't even left my room in months!!"

The Fae king and queen just looked away, expressions hard.

"Wait!" the boy sobbed, shoulders shaking. "I'll do better! Just tell me what to do and I'll do it!"

"Enough of this," the Fae king snapped. "Pull yourself together."

My heart broke, and I stumbled forward, trying to embrace young-Jaiel. But there was nothing to hold, my arms moving through him.

"I swear, I'll do better!" His cheeks were wet and that little chin trembled as emotions flooded over him — confusion, fear, desperation … filled those blue eyes.

"Please!" he screamed. "Please, Mother! Father!"

How could they bear to hear that? How could they do this to their own SON?!