Page 33

Cate

My ears were rounded and normal and human. I knew that because I’d had them since I was a kid. These were… These were…

“Fae,” Ciara whispered, her eyes growing large as she took a step away from me like I was a threat. “You’re a fae.”

I’d spent the last few weeks facing the possibility that Lach was right, that there was a glamour on my ring, and that everything I thought I knew about my existence might prove to be a load of crap.

And all that had in no way prepared me for the moment when said load of crap hit the fan.

She continued to back away from me like I was a ghost—not her friend, not her future sister-in-law, not me. I pushed past her, rushing to the mirror hung over the sink.

A stranger stared back at me. I had to coach myself to breathe as I took in my own reflection. But I was in there, hiding behind sharper cheekbones and a nose that tipped a little more up than the one I’d been blowing my entire life. Now my skin glowed with that faint, ethereal light that I’d been glamoured to exude when by Lach’s side over the last month. My ears sloped and ended in elegant tips. But it was my eyes that snagged my attention and refused to let go. No longer simple, boring brown. Now they were endless and unyielding, as dark as the abismine stone in Ciara’s signet ring, save for piercing flecks of gold that shimmered with an unearthly radiance.

I needed proof that the reflection before me was flesh and blood. I raised a hand to touch my face and gasped. Gold ribbons twisted across the back of it, down around my wrist. A sob slipped from me as I saw the mating bond on my own skin for the first time. I stared for a moment, startling when a line of reddish-brown Theban flashed over my fingers and disappeared. Not just the mark of the mating bond, but also…

I turned my attention back to the mirror as I wrenched down the neckline of my shirt and found more Theban—not in the dark ink of shadow magic; instead, it was in the same tawny hue as the ones racing somewhere else on my body. But these symbols remained fixed firmly in place, not moving from their vigil over my heart. Seven of them. I clapped a hand over my mouth as I realized what they were, but it was too late. Tears rolled down my cheeks, their heat at odds with the cold confusion that had taken hold of my entire body.

And peeking from behind my shoulders—

“Who are you?” Ciara asked angrily.

I forced myself to turn and face her—and found a gun leveled directly at my head. “It’s me. Cate,” I murmured, holding my hands up and hoping I could prove it to her. “I’m still Cate.”

My own heart was still beating in my chest. My thoughts swirled and swarmed inside my brain, trying to process what was happening. I was still me.

Wasn’t I?

How? How? How?

Ciara’s arms shook, her finger hovering over the trigger. She studied me, her gaze sweeping across my face in swift, sharp passes as if looking for proof.

“You saw me go into the stall,” I pointed out, annoyance thawing some of my shock.

Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down on it. The gun remained pointed between my eyes.

I looked at her, at the perfect skin of her arms, her neck, her face. It was unblemished. No tattoos giving her away. Not a single ancient symbol to show that she was thinking this over. Nothing to tell me if she was capable of shooting me, and somehow that was exactly the answer I needed.

“You aren’t going to kill me,” I said softly.

She flicked the safety off. “You don’t know that.” But her voice cracked.

Maybe I was wrong, but I doubted it. “You won’t.” I swiped at my tears, my eyes straying to the effigy on the floor. I considered for a moment before I bent and picked it up.

The gun tracked my movement, Ciara beginning to breathe heavily.

“Willow…” I forced myself to swallow, something made difficult by the knot in my throat. “She came to the Avalon.”

With her dead tulips, poking around, looking in my purse… And when I was finally ready, when I finally took the ring off. A laugh burst out of me. I plucked the thread fully off the effigy, and my shoulders felt lighter.

“Start explaining,” Ciara demanded.

I turned around, still clutching the tiny doll, determined to make Willow explain later. Ciara’s eyes followed it. The gun stayed on me. My temples began to throb, because cramps, a period, and a life-altering revelation weren’t enough for one day. Now I was getting a migraine.

Worst. Day. Ever.

“Put the gun down, and I will,” I snapped at her. “And have some sympathy. I’m PMSing.”

She blinked a few times, and then her arms collapsed to her sides, the gun clattering to the floor. “I just need you to answer one question.” Her voice shook. “Does Lach know?”

I slumped against the wall, my thoughts drawing together my brows, which only made my head hurt more. “Kinda.” I closed my eyes to help with the pain. “Yeah, I think so. At least, he guessed it.”

Ciara crossed her arms as her body began to quiver. “And you?”

I should have expected a follow-up question, but I frowned at her. “Wait, you think that I was keeping this from you?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

That made two of us. I drew a deep breath, startled to find my lungs burning. My hand shot to my chest and began to rub.

“It’s a tad harder to breathe on Earth than the Otherworld,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ll get used to it.”

She stared at me for a minute like I might transform again, like she didn’t quite trust her sight, and I couldn’t blame her. Slowly, she took a step forward, her gaze zeroing in on my neck. I clamped a hand to the spot in alarm. “What is it?”

“Theban,” she whispered, “but it’s…” She lifted her head, looking into my eyes, and her mouth fell open. “Oh gods… Are you… It’s not possible.” Her attention drifted to my hand, to the engagement ring I wore, but I knew she was seeing something else. She was seeing the color of those tattoos. Not Nether Court black. Not the iridescent pearl of the light courts. “ Does Lach know?”

The question sounded different the second time she asked. Like she might be angry if she ever got over the shock. Like she didn’t really want to know. Like she knew the answer was going to hurt .

Regret flooded through me. I’d been too scared to face what part of me had suspected when Oberon demanded the ring in his garden.

I’d felt it every time he had called me “princess.” More memories fell into place—ones that didn’t make sense. Ones that swam to mind like watching videos of someone else’s life. A pair of deep-brown eyes watching over me. Someone spinning me in a circle while I laughed. A fleeting memory of safety and belonging and home still tinged with innocence I’d lost long ago. My knees felt weak, and I lunged to grab the sink before I collapsed.

“Cate.” Ciara moved a single step but stopped short of reaching out for me.

I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t trust myself, either.

I didn’t know myself.

Someone knocked, the door opening a crack, and Ciara flew over to stop it.

“Everything okay in here?” the saleswoman asked in a chipper voice. “You’ve been in there for a while…”

“She got her period,” Ciara murmured, firmly gripping the door to keep her from entering. “I think we need to reschedule.”

“Poor thing,” the woman said, instantly sympathetic. “I’ll get something on the books right away.”

“Sounds good. We’ll be out in a second,” Ciara told her before shutting the door in her face. Ciara turned, pressed her back to it, and then, she snickered. “I bet that woman thinks she is having a bad day.”

And despite everything that had changed, despite everything that would never be the same again, I realized one important thing had not. My best friend. My sister. The woman who had my back when I’d just pulled the rug out from under her feet. Sure, she had trained a gun on me, but nobody was perfect.

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” I told her, “but I’ll tell you everything that I do.” I glanced around the bathroom. “Just somewhere else . I could use a real drink.”

Ciara drew in a deep breath as she considered my offer. Finally, she nodded.

“I guess first we have to find a way to get me out of here before someone sees.” I glanced around the room like a solution might present itself on a silver platter. “Maybe a hat? Or you could distract her while I sneak out the door?”

I prayed it wouldn’t come to walking out of here in a veil.

Another giggle erupted from her. “Okay, you definitely had no clue, because you don’t think like a fae. Someday you’ll learn not to make things harder than they have to be.” She grabbed the effigy from me and began looping the string until I felt a comforting tingle of magic. “There.” She tucked it safely in her pocket. “You look human again. Now let’s get out of here so you can tell me everything .”

Why did that sound like a threat?