My heart thundered. I felt like I was drowning.
Drowning in fear.
Drowning in him.
Hot and cold.
He moved his head, his hair shifting to reveal his ears.
They were pointed.
“You’re Fae,” I whispered, my blood freezing.
“Like you.” His gaze moved to the side of my head. “But your ears…”
They no longer pointed, but I wouldn’t explain that I’d used a spell to get rid of them to help me hide my true nature. “Back off.”
He didn’t. Instead, he bent his neck so that his voice rumbled at my ear, sending a shiver through me. “Your light. Where is it?”
My light?
Stark fear sliced through me.
The fear drove me.
I wasn’t proud of it, but fear was a pretty good freaking motivator for me.
I used it, calling upon the fire within me.
But I didn’t dare touch him. Not like I’d touched the demon.
This man was far more dangerous than any demon who wanted to wear me as a skin suit. I slammed a fireball against his chest, driving him backward.
He was so strong, so graceful, that he didn’t even lose his footing. At best, he stepped back a few feet.
Holy fates.
I’d never met anyone that much stronger than me before.
Him.
It was him—the one I ran from. The one I’d always been running from. I assumed he’d look like a monster. He’d been one in my dreams often enough.
Except he didn’t, and he’d caught me off guard.
I reached for the locket at my neck, needing the magic that I’d been building up all these years, for just this moment. I yanked it free and hurled it at him.
The golden necklace slammed into his chest, exploding in a cloud of whirling black figures. Ghostly remnants of those I’d killed attacked the man, freezing him solid.
Stone cold focus narrowed my vision, and I drew my bronze ax from the ether. I couldn’t use iron, and bronze had been valuable to my people.
Some people would have trouble killing a man who couldn’t protect himself.
Normally, I would too.
But I’d been preparing my whole life for this. The prophecy that had driven my life made it clear—it was his life, or mine. And if I died, my entire Fae Court went with me.
There was no way I’d let that happen.
I raised the ax, not even hesitating, and smashed it down toward his neck. At the last instant, I thought I could see shock flash in his impossibly blue eyes.
Then my ax landed.
Magic burst outward from him, slamming me backward. The weapon flew out of my hand, and I sank to the ground, staring up at the omen of death that hovered over me.
Powerful magic protected him, and nothing I threw at him was going to break through. Though he was still frozen by the magic in my locket, he wouldn’t stay that way for long.
And when he freed himself, he’d be pissed.
I scrambled to my feet and slipped to the right, getting away from the wall so he couldn’t corner me again, and darted down the alley.
I loathed running.
But I loathed dying more. I couldn’t die.
My Court needed me.
I’d already used up my best weapons on him, so I ran, sprinting down the alley. I wished I had the wings that should have been my birthright. Instead, I was on foot. Fast, but on foot. At the end of the alley, I glanced behind me. He stood where I’d left him, staring after me, his icy gaze intense as he fought the pull of the magic that I’d hurled at him.
It was a one-shot spell, and he couldn’t pursue me.
Not now.
But he would.
Because somehow, he could find me.
After all these years, the King of the Court of Ice had figured out where I was hiding. He was the bogeyman that had forced me to flee my home in the Court of Fire, and now he was here.
My fated mate had come to claim me.
For most, that might mean love. A future. A family.
For me, it meant death. The prophecy that had steered my life directed his as well. Because his kingdom was dying, and the only way to save it would be to sacrifice me.
2
I sprinted all the way home, miles and miles. Cutting across the historic district dotted with old Victorians and the business district filled with sleek high-rises, covering the distance in unnatural time. Magic’s Bend, my home since my brother and I had fled the Court of Fire, wasn’t a small town. Over sixty thousand supernaturals lived in this all-supernatural enclave at the edge of America, on the coast of Oregon.
Though I didn’t have my wings, I had unnatural Fae speed cultivated over years of training, and I turned onto Factory Row just ten minutes later. My lungs heaved and sweat dotted my brow as I slowed.
I turned, looking behind me, but didn’t see him.
I hadn’t expected to.
My spell should bind him for a little while longer. Anyway, he wasn’t the type to run after his prey.
He would break past the spell that bound him, then he would stalk me and appear whenever it suited him. A phantom born from a terrible prophecy.
I shivered and turned back to the street.
It wasn’t yet midnight, and Factory Row was still hopping. My brother and I had opened Potions & Pastilles—our coffee shop/bar combo—in the neighborhood back when it had been mostly antique shops. A few more bars had moved in during that time, and Factory Row was now one of the more popular hangout spots in town. It was mostly my brother’s baby, but I helped out now and again.
My heart thundered as I strode down the street, passing by the huge brick factory buildings that had been built over a hundred years ago. The four-story buildings had been renovated into shops and apartments, and all I wanted was to get back to the little section that I called home.
Not that it could be our home anymore.
The golden lights of Potions & Pastilles called to me, and pain pinched my chest at the thought of the news I was about to deliver to my brother.
I pushed through the glass door into the welcoming space. Warm golden wood gleamed beneath the light of the mason jar lamps that hung from the ceiling, and colorful local art decorated the walls. About a dozen patrons sat at the little wooden tables, but I just wished they were gone.
My brother stood behind the bar, tall and lean. As usual, his dark hair was messy and he wore a band T-shirt with a name I didn’t recognize. His dark eyes caught with mine, and he frowned.
Something flickered there.
Recognition, maybe.
Probably because I looked like the ghost I’d just seen.
His gaze moved toward the patrons who sat at their tables, and he spoke, his voice carrying over the crowd. “We’re closing up early. Now. All open tabs are on the house.”
His voice held such command that the place cleared out in seconds. The offer to cover open tabs had to help, but I rarely heard Connor talk like that.
He strode out from behind the bar and headed toward me. “What happened? I haven't seen this look on your face since…”
“Since we left home.” Years ago—so long it felt like eternity—we’d fled our home on Dartmoor, in southern England. A prophecy had foretold that a great tragedy would befall our people, the Fire Fae, and that I was the only one who could save them. But there had been a darker side to it, as well—the king of the Court of Ice would kill me before it could happen.