“Are you all right?” Frederick whispers.

“I’m fine,” I snap as I drop my hand from his arm and straighten my shoulders.

Turning my heart to stone, I will the past few weeks away and pretend they never happened. I bury them. I bury everything, until I’m right back where I started—determined and focused on the task ahead. In the back of my mind, plans begin to spin. I can’t do anything here. It’s too crowded. There are too many witnesses. In this world of human technology, I’d never get away. I’ll have to wait. But I should do it before we get to the mountain village. It’d be difficult to escape from so many shifters unscathed.

“Nymia!”

Ella’s voice slices to my core.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

I have to stop thinking of her as Ella. She’s Aerewyn’s prison, Aerewyn’s captor, Aerewyn’s executioner. A human thief, nothing more. One of them.

“Nymia!” The laughter on her lips opens a cavernous void inside my chest. “Come on! What are you doing?”

I open my eyes and find hers across the crowd. Her tan skin is wet with tears and her cheeks glisten in the sun. I’ve never seen such a wide smile on her lips, matched only by the one Omorose is wearing by her side. They hug each other around the waist, connected at the hip, the way sisters should be.

I want that.

I need that.

“Coming,” I croak, forcing the word up my dry throat.

Frederick reaches for my hand, brushing his fingers over mine before I pull away and quickly jaunt forward. His gaze burns a hole through my back. I can practically hear the howl of the thoughts churning like a storm inside his mind.

“Sorry,” I say when I get closer. “I was…overcome.”

Omorose grabs my shoulders and pulls me in for an awkward hug. Well, awkward on my end at least, as I stiffen and keep my arms still. She’s so wrapped up in her joy, I don’t think she notices how one-sided the affection is.

“Thank you,” she whispers fervently into my ear. “I never thought I’d see her again. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Ro Ro, you have to meet Freddie.” Ella tugs on her sister’s arm, which finally prompts Omorose to let me go. “Freddie, meet my sister, Omorose. Omorose, meet His Royal Highness Prince Frederick of Wales. He helped us escape London.”

“Did he?” Omorose teases, arching a brow as she reaches out to shake Frederick’s hand. It’s a side of her I haven’t seen before—playful and kind—a side I don’t think I let her show me. “I can’t wait hear all about it. A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He inclines his head, meeting her amused smile with one of his own. Then he glances briefly around, as though checking to make sure no one else is listening. “Might I ask how you knew we’d be here today? On this train?”

“It was the blood oath. I felt you guys getting closer, and the charge grew so quickly, I knew you had to be on the train. Didn’t you feel it, Nymia?”

I nod, but keep silent.

“Blood oath?” Frederick asks. He’s too curious by half.

“Let’s just say I didn’t totally trust her at first, so I made her swear to bring Ella back safely. Faeries can’t break a promise sworn in blood. You didn’t tell them?” She turns to me. So does Frederick, though I can’t help but notice his gaze is sharper, far more scrutinizing. Maybe he knows me better than I thought.

“I didn’t think it was important.” I shrug.

“It’s not,” Omorose agrees and takes her sister’s hand before squeezing it gently. “All that matters is that you’re here now. Which means…” Omorose turns back to me. “The oath is fulfilled.” She smiles and shifts her tone to something humorous, almost self-deprecating. “You’re free to go. You don’t need to stick around us humans anymore.”

She’s turning our former frustrations into banter, almost like a private joke, but I’m not laughing. Panic bubbles beneath my skin. I need a reason to stay for a little while longer, one that won’t raise suspicion. Then I remember.

“I need to speak to the shifter prince before I go.”

“Cole?” Omorose frowns. “Why?”

“The humans have a way to track magic,” I murmur, low enough so only the four of us can hear. “Even my kind of magic.”

Her eyes go wide.

I’m not lying. I did want to tell Cole about this, and I do want to protect as many magical creatures as I can. But I also need to keep Ella close, and I need to make sure they don’t suspect I have ulterior motives.

“We’ve been wondering why they kept so many patrols on the mountains. Maybe they still sense the magic. Maybe they know it isn’t gone. Maybe…” She trails off and snaps her head up. “Cole will want to hear about this right away.”

I nod.

“I’m guessing you’d like to come too?” she asks Frederick.

His response is immediate. “Most definitely.”

“Well, follow me then. Cole and I came on a motorcycle, but with so many people, we’re probably going to have to hike instead. It’ll take a few days, but we don’t really have the proper supplies—”

“Not to worry,” Ella buts in, and nudges her elbow into my ribs. “Nymia’s absolutely brilliant with magic. Just wait until you see what she can do to a campsite.”

Omorose turns toward me curiously, confused I’m sure, because I never showed her my power. But she doesn’t ask. I’ve earned a little bit of her trust—an advantage I’ll use when the time is right. “Well, I guess that settles it. Let’s go.”

We follow her down the streets to meet up with Cole, and then we keep going, using public transportation for as far as it will take us until we get outside of the city and can slip into the woods. Surrounded by nothing but trees with only the birds to hear, we finally tell them about our journey—the ball, the plane, the trek to the railroad station, everything. While Ella and Omorose walk a few steps ahead, getting reacquainted, Frederick helps me explain the device he used in London to track our magic. We give it to Cole so he can experiment with it when we get back to the village. Frederick explains some limitations, mostly the shorter range of distance it’ll track. Apparently, my magic was never picked up by the satellite feeds that day in London when the prince first spotted me in the crowd, only on some of these small locally used devices. When Cole asks questions, I let Frederick answer, but I try to remain as attentive as possible. I need to stay involved. I need to keep up appearances.

Yet in the back of my mind, all I can think is, Soon.

Soon, I’ll have Aerewyn back.

Soon, nothing else will matter.

As the sun sinks low in the sky, shadows stretch across the forest, making it difficult to see, so we make camp for the night. Frederick gasps when Cole transforms into his wolf form to speak with the shifter pack that’s been following us all afternoon. Ella smiles, clapping gleefully as her older sister looks on with a note of pride. I turn my attention to the damp grass beneath my feet and sink my magic into the dirt, willing life to grow. Four plump mossy beds rise, then an array of fruits and vegetables we can eat for dinner. In the foothills of these mountains, the air is crisper than it was in New York, so I grab a few petals and stretch them into silky blankets.

While I work, Ella begs her sister to explain how she met the shifter prince. Omorose begins their story on the night she ran away from the military base she called home—she was tired of living her life in hiding, surrounded by people who would kill her if they discovered her power, and she hoped the mysterious beast in the mountains might provide sanctuary. It doesn’t take long for Frederick, ever curious about magic, to be drawn in by the tale, listening as she explains how the prince who once terrified her became the man who stole her heart. I can’t help but notice that she skips over the part where I destroyed his kingdom by stealing his people’s magic, leaving them as animals and him alone for more than a decade.

It’s a kindness I don’t deserve.

Especially now, as I use the opening their rapture provides to call forth a few poppy flowers and crush the petals in my palms. With a little added heat from the Mother sun, they melt into a milky liquid—a calming serum. The priestesses used to give me a small sip to help me relax after I woke from a nightmare. If the dosage is high enough, it’ll put even the biggest beast to sleep. While they’re distracted, I grab the water bottles from Omorose’s pack, take a long sip from each, then slip the liquid inside. Thankfully, the bottles are opaque and made from metal, so I doubt anyone will notice the discoloration. I put the waters back, pull a few carrots from the dirt, and then join the conversation, offering up food.

By the time Cole returns, it’s dark.

Half the food is gone, and half the water is too.

“My uncles will take turns keeping watch,” he says when he rejoins us. “They’ll howl if they hear anything or if anyone gets a little too close for comfort.”

“Water?” I reach for a bottle and offer it to him. Cole takes it, then guzzles a few sips as he looks around the camp. I feel Frederick’s gaze on my profile, but I don’t dare meet it. I’m too afraid he’d see the victory shining in my eyes.

“How’d you get all of this?” the shifter prince asks, signaling to the pile of food.

“Nymia,” Ella says nonchalantly.

Cole cuts his gaze to Omorose and arches a brow. They speak without needing words, but thinking back to my time in their village, I know what their silence whispers. While his people were struggling, living in tents and trying to rebuild after their homes were destroyed, I could’ve helped. I could’ve grown foods. I could’ve made beds. I could’ve done a lot of things, but I didn’t.

Cole snorts, as though he expects nothing more of me.

Omorose just sighs.

Clearly, there’s no love lost between us.

Yet even as I think it, I know that’s not necessarily true. Yes, I’m still the faerie who wrecked Cole’s life, but I’m also the faerie who put Omorose’s back together. I saved her sister. I reunited her family. I can already feel her softening toward me, and if I tried, eventually he might too. I could redeem myself, if I wanted to. I could return to the village. I could work with his people. I could help them. But I won’t.

I’m the villain of their story.

Because it’s the only way to be the hero of mine.

“I’m tired,” I say to no one in particular, then lie down on my bed, closing my eyes with my back turned. If I feign exhaustion, it might not seem so odd to them when they all succumb to the serum slowly spreading through their veins. It takes a little while for the medicine to absorb, but as soon as it does, the effect is fast and hard. They’ll drop, one by one, into unconsciousness.

Ella goes first, which makes sense—her body is the smallest. Omorose falls next. Cole and Frederick talk for a little while longer, but eventually their voices fade. The world becomes little more than deep breathing and the soft rumble of snores. Before my eyes have the chance to grow heavy, I roll to a seated position and turn around.

All four of them are fast asleep.

The full moon overhead provides more than enough light to watch the steady rise and fall of their chests, peaceful and undisturbed.

I clap.

The smack echoes across the forest, but none of them move.

I clap again.

They remain still.

It’s time.

I take a deep breath and focus on the magic as a single rose erupts from the ground, green, then pink, then a deep red as the bud unfurls. It’s not the petals I need—it’s the thorns. I snap one off and rest it in my palm, then urge it to lengthen and sharpen. The magic is much the same as for weaving clothes, a simple twisting of nature into the thing I need, which is, in this case, a knife. Gripping the blade in my hand, I crawl across the moss, as silent as any predator in the forest, not stopping until I find my prey.

Ella’s on her side with her fingers cupped beneath her cheek like a pillow. I roll her gently onto her back so her chest is exposed. A slight frown wrinkles her brow. I lean down so my lips hover over her ear.

“Shh.”

The sound of my voice soothes her. Just as quickly as it came, the unease vanishes. I stare down at her, gaze roving the slopes of her face, illuminated by the moonlight. Her hair glitters where it catches the starlight. A slight rosy hue spans her tan cheeks. A soft smile curves her lips. Even in sleep, she oozes life.

A drop of water slips down my cheek, so I glance to the sky, but there’s no rain.

It came from me.

I rub the tear away and focus on why I’m here instead of what I’m doing. I try not to see an innocent girl asleep on the grass. I try not to feel the knife in my hands. Reaching out with my magic, I search for Aerewyn beneath Ella’s skin. Deep in her core, I sense my sister, her fists beating on the bars of her prison, her power fighting for release.

Help me! she cries. Save me!

I will.

I must.

Taking a deep breath, I lift the makeshift blade over my head. All I need is one good thrust, one moment of strength, and I’ll have my sister back.

I tighten my grasp.

Aerewyn, I think. Aerewyn.

But all I see is Ella.

I close my eyes, drawing the image of my sister with my mind—hair the color of fresh roses, skin rich with the glitter of magic, eyes as bright as a perfect spring day. I hear her laughter in the breeze gently brushing against my cheeks. Even as my heart fills with the sound, another part of it shatters.

My arms tremble.

I squeeze tighter.

My blood pounds in my ears. In that drumming I hear two names, Ella, then Aerewyn, then Ella, then Aerewyn, louder and louder, drowning out the rest of the world.

My hands burn.

My heart is on fire.

Their faces merge behind my closed eyes. Bright green eyes turn to ones with a golden shimmer at the core. Chestnut hair uncurls to vibrant scarlet. A girl runs away from me, across a flowery meadow, and every moment, her features shift, fluidly changing from one sister to another, until she stops at the other end and turns.

It’s Aerewyn.

My sister. My choice.

She has to be.

I hitch my arms, preparing to strike, but the dream shifts. Aerewyn stumbles. Red blossoms on her chest, and now she’s Ella, crying out in pain—not from the wound, but from the betrayal as her eyes pin me to the spot, silently pleading why.

My eyes fly open and I gasp.

The world rushes back.

Ella is asleep beneath me. I’m poised to strike. Then all at once, the truth hits.

I can’t do it.

I can’t kill her—not even for Aerewyn.

The blade slips from my grasp and my arms collapse, falling in my lap as my spine hunches over in defeat. It’s only then that I notice the slits in my palms where my milky blood seeps out. I cut myself, but I don’t feel any pain.

I’m numb.

I will the ground to open up and swallow me whole, but it doesn’t listen. My magic is as dead as my heart. Nothing works. My head falls back with the will to scream, but no sound passes through my lips. Instead, I stare at the stars in the sky, close enough to taunt but too far to touch, filled with so many souls I’ll never see again, though my mind can only focus on one. I’m alone. I’ll always be alone.

Except I’m not.

When I lower my chin, Frederick’s eyes are open, watching me. He saw everything. I can tell by the mix of sympathy and relief flickering in his gaze. He knew I wouldn’t do it. He knew I couldn’t. All this time I thought I was lying to him, when really, I’ve been lying to myself, trying to convince myself that when the time came, I’d do whatever it took to bring my sister back.

He’s always seen exactly who I am.

A weak girl trying to convince the world she's strong.

It’s who I’ve always been.

Frederick opens his mouth to speak, but before he can mutter a word, a wolf charges into our camp and snarls as it bites down on the shifter prince’s arm, trying to shake him awake. In the distance, a howl rises to the moon. Another wolf runs in and jams its skull into Cole’s chest. But their prince doesn’t stir, doesn’t wake. A gunshot cuts through the forest and one of the wolves lifts its human eyes to find mine. In them I see a single word.

Run.