Page 44

On to Earth

174 years ago

I adjust mystrange clothes, staring at my reflection in one of the mirrors that line the palace halls. My outfit is far coarser than what I’m used to. I can practically feel the calloused hands and the hours of toil that went into spinning the cloth, then weaving it, then meticulously dyeing it, cutting it, shaping it, sewing it.

It reminds me of a time I’m better off forgetting, a time when I had to pretend I wasn’t bursting at my seams with power.

I hear the soft pad of footfalls as someone turns down the corridor.

“Desmond!” a fae woman calls out.

I glance over in time to see Harrowyn, a noblewoman, heading toward me, her cheeks rosy and her lips dewy.

I rub my hand over my mouth.Never should’ve bedded the general’s daughter.But in my defense, she should know by now—they shouldallknow by now—that I’m not good for more than a night or two of fun. The trouble is, every woman believes she’s the one that’s different. That she’ll be the fairy to break the dastardly King of Night of his bad habits. That she’ll wear his crown and carry his kids.

Never going to happen.

I run a hand over the coarse fabric I wear.Need to stop putting this off.I don’t have time to let Harrowyn down easy. I need to leave now, or I won’t leave at all, and this is the closest I’ve come in decades.

Steeling my nerves, I turn on my heel and head towards the back of the palace.

Harrowyn calls out to me again, her voice growing fainter as she realizes that I’m not going to talk to her.

Once a bastard, always a bastard.

I leave the fae woman and the castle behind me, crossing the royal grounds towards the circular portal house that looms ahead of me. I fling my magic at it, and its huge doors swing open. Inside, the air wavers, looking like a mirage. I stare at the portal.

I’m really doing this.

For the first time in years, my heart begins to thunder.

Your mate could have already lived and died. You might never find her.

I hesitate, my own long-buried insecurities nipping at my heels.

A deeper, more primal part of me crushes my insecurities with one simple statement—

I must try.

The need to find her has become almost an obsessive thought of mine.

I take a deep breath, staring at the wavering air of the portal, and then I step through.

Lands flash by me, worlds turn. I watch it all pass as I move down the ley line. I reach my hand out, and the vortex around me ripples. Snow-capped mountains and blistering deserts zoom by. I stare at it all in wonder until I find the exit I’m looking for.

I step off the ley line, the world snapping into focus. I straighten the hem of my coat as I take a good look around me.

Earth.

I’ve been here a few times. Never for long, but always long enough.

The land is painted in sad, somber shades of grey, and on the horizon I can just make out London. I try not to grimace. I can already all but see the tired, desperate faces of its inhabitants, can already smell the manure and human excrement that lines the muddy streets. I can hear the hacking coughs of people living too closely together.

What a miserable place. And here I am, ready to join them.

Because somewhere, somewhen, my bride will be amongst them.

Chapter 11