Page 8 of Shift of Heart (Shifter Lords #1)

Chapter

Six

“ A re you insane?” Moira hissed as she breezed into my house. The smell of garlic and basil followed her, and honestly, I was so hungry I was more focused on that than the barely suppressed rage in her voice.

“Can we eat first?” I begged.

Moira slammed the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Evie.” She squeezed the space between her brows. “You healed the Shifter Lord?”

I took the bags from her and started digging out the to-go containers. “In my defense, I didn’t know it was him.”

“How could you not know?” Moira said through gritted teeth.

I pushed the Bolognese her way and took the Alfredo. “It was dark. I was tired. He was face down and covered in blood and wounds.”

Moira stared. “Did you know he was a shifter?”

“Not until I touched him.”

She opened her container and shook some Parmesan over the top. “You could have walked away. You should have.”

I took the cheese from her and did the same to my dish. “You know how difficult it is for me to see things in pain.”

Her eyes softened. “I do,” she agreed.

She should. It was how we’d met. I reached over and squeezed her hand. “It will be fine. The thistle protects my identity. He won’t be able to track me.”

Hazel had done a hell of a job on the thistle tattoo. It kept me hidden from anyone searching—even the gods. Caelan could hire the best tracker in the world, and it wouldn’t help.

As long as I stayed out of his direct path, I’d be safe.

“What about your scent?” Moira asked, diving right into the heart of my fear.

I shrugged. “Caelan was so close to death, I doubt he caught it.”

Moira’s lips thinned. “I know you’re keeping secrets. I get why you have to, but you’re treating me like an idiot. We both know how powerful a regular shifter’s senses are, but you healed Caelan, the Shifter Lord. That guy could sniff a specific grain of pepper from a vat of the stuff.”

She opened a bottle of wine with a flick of her wrist, a feat I was always jealous of. “The amount of magic you had to expend to heal him must have been tremendous.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Moira held up her hand to silence me. “Nope. I’m not finished.”

She poured us both a huge glass and pushed mine over before she tilted hers up, drained it, and refilled her glass.

I winced.

“I can only assume the forest floor is saturated with your power. He might not be able to track you due to the spell on your arm, but if you ever use similar magic in his presence, he will be able to identify you.”

“That will never happen,” I assured her.

Moira grunted. “And you healing the Shifter Lord never should have happened, and yet here I am, close to having a nervous breakdown in your kitchen.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Moira snorted. “You never have to apologize to me, Evie. I’m worried about you. Not me.”

She gathered up her food and headed into the living room. I trailed behind her, quickly losing my appetite. “None of us could bear it if anything happened to you.” She ducked her head. “You gave us all a home. We owe everything to you.”

I shook my head. “No. Never. You owe me nothing.” Tears filled my eyes. “Family has no debts, Moira.”

Pink tears appeared at the corners of Moira’s eyes. “Don’t die, okay?”

A startled laugh broke from me. “I’ll do my best.”

Her watery smile broke my heart. “He won’t find me. But if he does, maybe it won’t be so bad. I saved his life, after all, didn’t I?”

I nudged her playfully. “Maybe he’ll give us a gift card to that cool new bookstore down the road. We’ve been meaning to visit there, and free books are an excellent reward for a good deed.”

Neither one of us believed there wouldn’t be consequences if Caelan found me, but my words served as a natural way to end the conversation and focus on other things.

Like pasta from our favorite restaurant.

My dreams that night were strange and jarring.

I stood in a glowing forest of colorful blooms and watery moonlight. A massive man with moss and fungi-covered golden antlers atop his head sat cross-legged on a large tree stump, watching me.

My heart pounded in my chest, but I felt no urge to run. The man, or whatever he was, felt familiar, though I knew I’d never met him. I made no move to come any closer, nor did he move from his stump.

I couldn’t make out all of his features. The night was too dark, and everything was thrown into shadow. He tilted his head, and I could see a proud nose and high cheekbones. His eyes glowed with fae magic.

My breath caught.

I knew who this was. And all of a sudden, I knew this was no dream.

“Cernunnos,” I breathed.

“Evangeline.” His voice vibrated with power, rolling over my skin with sparks of light. I shivered at the sheer magnitude of his magic, both in fear and awe.

“Is this a dream?” I had to make sure.

“A warning.” His voice sounded like a savage, wild forest, deep and rumbling like a fall thunderstorm.

He slid off the stump and came closer. I was a small woman, but I’d never felt quite so overwhelmed by a male presence.

He towered over me, his physical height mind-boggling, antlers rising another several feet above his head.

Cernunnos’ eyes glowed with ancient magic, the irises swirling with silver and golden sparks, unfathomable power simmering in their depths. Deep wisdom rested in his gaze, making my breath catch when his eyes rested on me.

His antlers were akin to a crown, marking his position as king of his land, ruler of the forest, and all its flora and fauna.

Cernunnos’ hair cascaded past his shoulders and swayed in a gentle fae wind, the strands the color of doe skin and twisted with moss and mushrooms, twigs, and stones.

His nose was straight and proud, his cheekbones sharp, and his lips full.

He stood before me bare-chested and leanly muscled, his skin the color and texture of bark. He wore leather breeches crusted with moss and vines, tangling in intricate patterns around his powerful thighs.

I swallowed hard, my dry throat clicking. “I’m not sure what the fae king would need to warn me about.”

His clothing melted as I watched, changing into a pair of joggers and a white t-shirt.

I blinked in surprise at the switch, almost laughing as he strode toward me.

The new clothing made him look like a personal trainer at a 24-hour gym.

His face lost that inhuman edge, but anyone would know Cernunnos wasn’t quite human if they saw him.

His eyes shone like burnished silver—dimmed but still unearthly.

“Your blood smells different.”

It wasn’t a question but a loaded observation.

My mouth fell open. When had Cernunnos ever smelled my blood? “I’m sorry?”

He waved a hand. A large stone with a flat top rumbled up from the ground. Cernunnos held his hand out to me. “Sit with me for a while.”

This night had taken a decidedly weird turn, but I obliged, and Cernunnos, king of the fae, technically my king, hopped onto the rock next to me in one lithe move.

As we sat there like teenagers who snuck out of their house for an illicit meetup, Cernunnos sighed.

“What happened to you?”

I shrugged. Many things. Everything. One terrible thing. “Long story.”

“I have time.”

For a while, neither of us spoke.

“You have a long time before the Hunt comes. Why are you here?” The world was seven months away from the Winter Solstice, the time when Cernunnos rode through the world. For twelve days, Cernunnos brought the souls of the dead together before the wheel of the year turned once more.

His smile made the edges of his eyes crinkle. Cernunnos was beautiful, but I didn’t feel any attraction toward him. I felt curiosity more than anything. Imagine all the things he’d seen or done, all the years he’d walked the worlds.

“You’re right,” he acknowledged. “I rarely return to this world, but I felt it necessary to visit. However, I’m not technically here on Earth right now. I’m only in your psyche.”

“That isn’t as comforting as you think it is.”

His laugh warmed me from the inside. “Tell me, Evangeline. What happened?”

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“Have you ever talked about it?”

I shot him a look. Cernunnos’ expression was mild and non-judgmental.

“No,” I said mulishly.

“Then how do you know you won’t feel better when you unburden yourself?”

“The great Cernunnos acting as a therapist?” I grumbled. “I thought I’d never see the day.”

“I’m not here to be your therapist. The balance of your blood is vastly different, Evangeline. You have not accepted those changes. Until you do, you will be…” His voice trailed off until he stretched his hands apart. “Split. Two pieces of one whole.”

Cernunnos shook his head sadly. “You will not be complete until you come to terms with what happened to you and learn to embrace your new power as it emerges.”

My heartbeat picked up at his words. I suspected something like that, but hearing it spoken aloud sent defeat rushing through me.

I’d fought for so long and so hard to suppress the chimera’s curse, and I knew I’d eventually lose.

I just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. “And if I don’t want to?”

A heavy exhale escaped him.

“You already know what happened to me, don’t you?” Sitting next to Cernunnos felt like sitting in front of a furnace. I always associated the fae with cool spring nights and early autumn evenings, but the king’s power felt like a deeply hidden pool of lava.

“I know everything about you, Evangeline.”

I stiffened. “Why?”

“That is a question I am not ready to answer.”

His power might feel like a volcano, but he was just as cagey as the rest of the fae. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because you already know the truth. You feel the difference in your blood, the battle your body is fighting. Still fighting all these years later. Perhaps if you allow yourself to examine this, you may find some interesting surprises.”

My thoughts briefly flicked to Caelan and how I felt like I couldn’t physically walk away from him. But something about Cernunnos’ words bothered me. I didn’t want any interesting surprises.

Surprises were for people who didn’t have to hide themselves.

I’d done a deep dive on the chimera race after my attack, studying every piece of literature I could get my hands on.

I knew what they were capable of. Why would Cernunnos imply I’d find a surprise if I fully embraced the chimera’s magic?

Whatever the answer might be, I wanted no reminder of that night, and I’d devoted myself to searching for a way to purge its magic from my body. Without much luck, granted, but I still had a few irons in the fire.

Something about sitting out here with the king of the fae in my dreamscape during a cool, stunning summer evening made me try raw honesty.

“I don’t want to give up who I am.” My voice sounded meek. Small. “I like my life.” A tear slipped down my face. Even though I knew things weren’t perfect, they were good enough. Weren’t they?

Cernunnos said nothing for a long moment. A mixture of emotions played over the planes of his face. “Do you think a child knows who it is, Evie?”

I frowned. “Of course not.”

“A child’s growth and personality depend on many factors.

Physical and emotional environment, life experiences, education.

A child who knows nothing but love feels free to give love, but one who knows rejection hides their pain and refuses to believe love is real when it’s offered. They learn to survive.”

His words plucked at all the raw pieces inside me, all the places that had never healed when I was a little girl who only wanted to be loved.

“And so they grow up,” he continued, “and they get jobs, fall in love, maybe have kids. Then maybe they get divorced, or have a miscarriage, or become paralyzed in an accident. Or worse.”

He lifted a powerful shoulder in a shrug. “Or better. There’s no way to tell. But as the child grows, their minds and personalities are shaped with everything happening around them and to them. For most people, the same cycle continues until they either give up or they die.”

His words struck something inside me. My magic churned like acid in my gut. “Are you saying I don’t know who I am?”

He smiled sadly. “I am saying you know who you are today, but things are ever-changing. You might be a different person in a week from now. Maybe even tomorrow.”

“If I stop trying to suppress the chimera magic and explore how it works.”

He didn’t acknowledge my words and instead abruptly changed the subject. “Tell me, Evangeline. Do you know who your father is?”

I jerked my attention to him. “Excuse me?” My heart leapt in response to his question.

I assumed my father was some poor human man my mother had seduced.

She killed him shortly after coitus like some fucked up praying mantis and told me so while we were sharing pizza one night during one of her thankfully rare visits.

I have no idea who he was or even his name. The only thing my mother ever told me about him was that “he was so very pretty, darling.” As if that wouldn’t give me nightmares for the next thousand years.

“Your Floromancy comes from your mother?”

I shrugged, suspecting he already knew the answer. “Mom isn’t exactly forthcoming with information. I assume so. She has powerful healing abilities, so I believe those came from her.”

“Perhaps. But Cliona does not have true power over flora. She can do the small magics common with all the fae, but powerful plant life and earth magic are beyond her capabilities.”

“So that’s a no on the Floromancy,” I said dryly.

His smile was enigmatic. “Floromancy is an ancient magic, Evie. Far older than much of your maternal line. Have you ever questioned what you gained from your father?”

I laughed. “My addiction to British baking shows and weakness for baked goods?”

At his silence, I sobered. “My father was mortal.”

Cernunnos rose to his feet. “Was he?”

I stared at him as he hopped off the rock.

“Cernunnos.” My throat went dry. I stared at him in horror. My father was mortal. Mom had always said…

No. No she hadn’t. I’d drawn my own conclusions, hadn’t I? I swore viciously under my breath.

The fae king turned and strode away.

“Cernunnos!”

An iridescent portal opened before him. He turned and studied me for a brief second. “You will never lose yourself once you discover who you’re truly meant to be, Evangeline.”

Cernunnos took a step backward, the portal swallowing him in a flash of bright light.

My eyes snapped open.

I was lying in bed, covered in a cold sweat.

Inside my palm lay an oak leaf the color of burnished gold.