Page 7

Cate

The world tilted on its axis as I blinked to find my cheek smashed against damp, hard earth. It felt like I’d put my brain in a blender. Could this ritual bullshit get any worse? Groaning, I pushed onto my elbows and looked across the garden to find… myself .

I scrambled back, fingers tearing at the cold grass, suddenly very fucking awake.

A shadow fell over me as Marin approached and knelt before me. She held out a hand to steady me, but I didn’t reach for it.

“Easy, Cate,” she said softly. “The effects of the spell are quite strong. Give yourself a minute.”

A minute? I was going to need a goddamn year.

I clutched my chest and froze when I found my boobs two sizes smaller. I looked down to find Titania’s hand, wearing my ring, planted over my rampaging heart. “What the hell is going on?” I reached up to touch my face. Not my nose. Not my mouth. Not me . “What have you done to me?”

“Shhh!” Ilsa shushed me. “People will hear you.”

“She’s panicking. It’s to be expected,” Marin called to her.

Panicking? I was having some type of psychotic break. I poked at my cheek, pinched my arm. I felt everything, but this wasn’t my body. Somehow, I was Titania .

Marin grabbed my hand as I was about to slap myself. “It’s a simple transference spell. Only temporary. I need you to listen.” Urgency laced her words. “We lied to Oberon.” She gestured to my sleeping body. “I’ve placed a spell on both of you, making you appear like each other, but we have to get you out of here before it wears off.”

“Are you serious?” Something thundered in my chest. My heart. Or Titania’s heart. It was all a bit difficult to wrap my head around. “Why?”

“No one will stop Titania from leaving the court.” She rose, grabbing my hand and hauling me to my feet. “She will remain asleep until the spell wears off. We should all have enough time to get the hell out of here before Oberon realizes what we’ve done.”

A glimmer of hope ignited in my chest, but it was instantly smothered by a fresh pang of fear. “If he catches us—”

“We’re aware of what happens,” Ilsa cut me off. “She needs to change.”

Looking down, I realized I was still wearing the white gown the maid had dressed me in earlier. I started to tear it off, but Marin stopped me. “We need to put her in that. Be careful.”

I nodded and began to undress as she moved to help Ilsa with Titania’s clothing. Years of working as a nurse and changing in hospital locker rooms had cured me of any modesty. I focused on that to distract myself from the fact that I was wearing someone else’s skin. I stripped everything off, trembling as I stood naked in the night’s cool breeze. Marin passed me the red dress and shoes Titania had worn to the ritual, and I slipped into them as they dressed her in my white gown.

It would almost be worth sticking around to see her wake up wearing it.

“Call the guards to help us,” Ilsa ordered Marin. She dashed off, and the old witch turned on me. “Play the part. They must believe you are Titania. Can you do that?”

“Act like a raging bitch?” I asked, shivering again. Her dress was useless in this weather. “I think I can handle that.”

She looked unconvinced as Marin returned, two guards running behind her.

They shared a look as they took in the unconscious woman surrounded by the salt circle. One pivoted to stare at me. His eyes swept over me from head to toe.

My pulse sped up. Did he know? Then I realized they were waiting for me to give the order. “What are you doing?” I marched toward them and pointed at…me. I was so going to need therapy after this. “Oberon’s fragile human bride fainted. Get her inside before he finds out you left her on the ground this long.”

Genuine fear widened their eyes, and they quickly lifted her. A rush of sympathy hit me as they carried her toward my fate, but I quickly turned up my nose. Sympathy, kindness, a shred of decency—showing signs of any of those things would be a dead giveaway that I wasn’t Titania.

Marin and Ilsa followed a few steps behind me as we made our way toward the bedroom. Each step inside the Hallow Court sent my adrenaline surging until I was in full-blown survival mode. I gave in to the familiar. Reacting and responding—this was what I was good at after endless nights working as a nurse. There wasn’t time to consider all the terrible ways this terrible plan might end.

Ilsa moved beside me, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Oberon expects the ritual to take longer, but we must hurry.”

I refused to let myself consider what he would do to the three of us if we didn’t make it out of here. I refused to think of the locked room one floor down, refused to consider the servants cursed to move in silence through the estate’s beautiful horror.

Well, I tried to refuse.

“Send for Cate’s maid to watch over her while we’re gone,” I barked to the guards, snapping my fingers and feeling a foreign spark of magic that startled me. They nodded, too nervous to notice, and rushed off to fetch the mute woman.

“What are you doing?” Marin grabbed my arm. “We need to go.”

“I won’t leave her here.” She had shown me kindness, and my gut told me that woman was as much a prisoner as I was.

“There’s no time,” Marin hissed.

“Then leave.” I would find my own way out. Somehow.

“She’s right.” Ilsa reached for her companion’s hand and gripped it. “Gods know what he’s done to the creature.”

Creature? I didn’t have time to ask what the woman was before she appeared in the room. The guards paused outside the door. No doubt wanting to avoid my wrath.

The maid’s eyes followed me warily, seeing only the Hallow Court princess who’d probably made her life hell. But when they landed on the bed, she rushed toward the unconscious figure she mistook for me. I blocked her. I didn’t want her to actually stay here; I needed a reason to order her out of the room with me. “Where is my brother?” I demanded. “Didn’t you tell him his bride is waiting?”

She blinked, confusion clouding her eyes, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her from the room. I paused near the door and looked at the witches. “You two better come along and explain what went wrong yourself. I am not taking the fall for your mistake.”

They glanced at each other, Ilsa looking mildly impressed by my performance.

“Wait here and don’t let anyone in that room,” I ordered the guards, throwing them one final, dangerous glare before I dragged the maid down the hall.

She struggled a little against my hold.

“Stop,” I hissed. “Just trust me.”

Her gaze darted to the witches, who nodded.

“This way.” Ilsa pointed to the end of the corridor, but when we reached it, we found an empty room.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Now you nip us out of here,” Marin said, reaching for my shoulder.

“That’s the plan?” I stared at them. All of this trouble, and that was their big plan? “I can’t nip. I’m not a fae.”

Another pointed look between the witches.

“It doesn’t matter. Titania is,” Ilsa explained. “Your entire beings were transferred into each other, including her magic. We’ve been working on this for days, preparing your body every night, Cate.” She grabbed my other arm. The maid, to her credit, didn’t try to run despite the absolutely ludicrous conversation happening in front of her. Instead, she looked almost relieved.

“I don’t know how.” I had never expected to die in such a weird, confusing way, but I had a feeling if I tried to magically transport us anywhere, bad shit was going down.

“Just snap your fingers and imagine you’re on Earth,” Ilsa said.

I stared at her. “Those are your instructions?”

“This might help. Imagine you’re going here.” Marin held up her phone, and I glimpsed a photo of a cobbled street lined with a row of quaint shops and restaurants.

“Where is that?” I asked.

“All that matters is that it’s close,” she said hurriedly. “From what we know about fae magic, nipping requires strong magic. We can’t risk going too far, since…”

I had no clue what I was doing. Was this a rescue or a joke? I grabbed the phone, committing the image to memory. If this was the only chance we had, I needed to try, even if it sounded far-fetched.

“Ready?” Ilsa pressed.

Not even a little.

There were plans, and then there were suicide missions. This felt more like the latter.

“We’re running out of time.” Marin grabbed one of my arms, nodding for them to do the same.

I clamped my mouth into a grim line, but the maid gave me an encouraging nod and squeezed my hand, leaving the other free. It was a testament to how fucked up the Hallow Court must be if she was going along with this.

I closed my eyes, all three clinging to me, and pictured the lively street in the photo.

And then I snapped my fingers.