Page 29

"I'll fetch King Callum at once," he stammered, rising. "He—he's in the Throne Room with the Council, but he'll want to know immediately that you're here. Please, follow me to the palace?—"

"We'll wait here," Archer interrupted, his daggers still visible. "Bring Callum to us. Alone. Tell no one else of our arrival."

The sentry swallowed visibly, then nodded. "As you wish." He backed away several paces before turning and sprinting down the path, faster than any human could move.

"Well," I said into the silence that followed, "That was interesting. He seemed terrified of you."

Rowen's smile was sharp and humorless. "The Fae have long memories. The last time I visited this realm, I left... an impression."

"What he means," Archer clarified, finally sheathing his daggers, "is that he nearly burned the palace to the ground."

"It was a mild disagreement with the Council," Rowen shrugged, though the tense set of his shoulders belied his casual tone.

I opened my mouth to ask for details, but the words died on my tongue as another surge of heat washed through me, more intense than before. My knees nearly buckled as desire pooled low in my belly, hot and insistent.

"Sierra?" Archer was at my side instantly, his arm around my waist.

"He's coming," I whispered, my voice strained. "I can feel him getting closer."

Rowen and Archer exchanged a look I couldn't interpret. Then Rowen stepped closer, his hand settling on the small of my back, just below where Archer's arm supported me. The contact of both men sent electricity skittering across my skin.

"Remember to breathe," Rowen murmured in my ear. "The first meeting between bonded mates after separation can be overwhelming."

"That's an understatement," Archer added, his ice-blue eyes darkening as he looked down at me. "Especially with your heat accelerating."

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to center myself as we waited. Through the trees, I could already sense Callum approaching—amagnetic pull that grew stronger with each passing second. The forest around us seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of its king's arrival.

And deep inside me, something wild and primal stirred, awakening from a long slumber.

12

Callum

Ifelt her before I saw her.

The council meeting had dissolved into yet another tedious argument about border patrols when a sudden warmth spread through my chest, radiating outward until my entire body hummed with awareness. My grip tightened on the arms of the throne, the ancient wood creaking in protest as I fought to maintain my composure.

She was here. In my realm.

The sentry had burst in moments later, whispering in my ear about Lord Rowen's unexpected arrival, but I'd already known. Just as I'd known she would be with him.

Sierra.

I dismissed the council with a curt wave, ignoring their protests and questions. I owed them no explanations. Not now. If they decided to push the matter, I would tell them I was overcome with grief and was in no mood to hear them any longer.

As I strode through the palace corridors, servants and courtiers scattered before me, their eyes wide with alarm. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a polished silver mirror and almost cursed, but kept right on striding forward, determined.The shadows I typically kept carefully controlled were writhing around me like living smoke.

I was losing control. And I didn't care.

The moment I stepped outside, the forest responded to my agitation. Flowers burst into sudden bloom along the path, vines crept and twisted with unnatural speed, and the very air seemed to shimmer with anticipation. Since my ascension, the realm had been reacting very differently to me and I would have to get accustomed to the change.

My mother's meadow. That's where they waited. Of course Rowen would choose that place. A reminder of what we both had lost.

The meadow came into view, sunlight spilling through the ancient trees to illuminate the riot of wildflowers below. And there she stood, flanked by my half-brother and his assassin, her silver hair catching the light like a beacon.

I stopped at the meadow's edge, the breath leaving my lungs in a rush.

Sierra.