Fade
Date: 2011-08-15 07:00:00+00:00
Description: ***Winner 2014 - Silver Honoree Benjamin Franklin Digital Awards from the IBPA!!! A Dystopian Thriller from bestselling author Kailin Gow. What if you found out you never existed?"My name is Celestra Caine. I am seventeen years old, which makes me a senior at Richmond High. I never thought this would happen to me, but it has... I'm one of those people you see every day, go to school with, remember seeing at the supermarket or the mall, and then one day you don't hear about them any longer. They're gone, and eventually, you forget them."Complete Series Now Available!FADE Falling (FADE #2) Forgo
Publisher: Edge by Sparklesoup

Enchanted Frost

Bitter Frost #8
of Kailin Gow’s Frost Series

kailin gow

Enchanted Frost  (Frost Series #8)

Published by THE EDGE

THE EDGE is an imprint of Sparklesoup Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Kailin Gow

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Do NOT post on websites or share this book without permission from copyright holder. We take piracy seriously.

All characters and storyline is an invention from Kailin Gow. Any resemblance to people alive or dead is purely coincidence.

For information, please contact:

THE EDGE at Sparklesoup

14252 Culver Dr., A732

Irvine, CA 92604
www.theEDGEbooks.com

First Edition.

ISBN 13: 9781597480529

DEDICATION

To all who believe in the healing power of love.

Prologue

Kian

If anyone had been looking down at me, from the peaks and heights of the Atlas Mountains that divided life from death, divided Feyland from the mysterious Fields, I know what they would have seen. A young man, his face ravaged by grief, the pale Fairy skin flushing with rage, with sorrow, with pain. A man who had lost everything.

I know what they would say. The same thing villagers and passers-by had been whispering for days, now, as I wandered – aimlessly, lonely, trying to outrun the fear and pain that buzzed like mosquitoes in my ears. I could hear nothing; I could not think. All I could do was run. Away from the pain of losing her. Away from the voices and the whispers that had dogged my steps. “There goes Prince Kian. Jilted his fiancée, don’t you know? They were so in love – I knew such things never end well! His mother would never have stood for such passion, such weakness. And she’s proved right in the end. The Winter heir has lost everything because his heart ran too hot with the blood of desire.”

It was true, after all. Love had led me to this place. Love had led me into Breena’s arms, her lightly golden skin, into the crevice at her neck that always smelled like jasmine and bergamot, where I would lay my head. Led me to her lips that tasted of sweet and tart berries. Led me to her long chestnut hair which I so loved to curl about my fingertips. Love had made me weak for her – and for a while it had made me strong, too. Together, Breena and I had determined that we would reunite Feyland – and we had! We had ended the war. We had brought Winter and Summer back together. We had fought off the Dark Hordes, the Pixies, banshees – all manner of creatures that once populated the pages of my family’s bestiary. We had restored the Twin Suns of Feyland; we had restored food to the larder of every peasant and farmer in both halves of Feyland.

And still it was not enough. That knowledge coursed through me with the agony of fire. It was not enough to make her love me as I loved her. For my love for Breena was total, all-encompassing, full of truth. I could never, would never, love anyone as I had loved her. I would never care for anyone as I had cared for her. I had never wanted a woman before I felt her hot flesh on mine; I had never wanted the rousing affections that passion stirred up in me before she inspired them. She was the only one; she was the one. And I loved her with a love that had grown savage with time, a love that had overpowered all my efforts at reason, at control. I had been sent by the Winter Court to kill her; instead she had killed me – slain the rational, cool, calm, collected Kian I  had once been and transformed me in the stead of that noble prince into a wild bloodhound, no better than a Wolf, chasing after the sound of her feet and the lingering smell of her perfume.

But she did not love me the same way. That knowledge tore me apart. She loved me; she had chosen me. But what did that mean – chosen? She had deliberated over the two men who loved her. She had kissed me and then kissed him and then kissed me again, going back and forth, her heart unable to cleave to one or the other. It was difficult to be angry with her – for so long I had never been angry with her – and yet now I found involuntary rage spilling over into my consciousness. She had not meant to trick me; I could forgive her that much. She had not meant to make me suffer. But the truth had won out in the end: that Breena would never love me with the same exclusivity with which I loved her. Her choice of me had not been a wholehearted throwing of herself, body and soul, into my arms, but rather a difficult decision between me and Logan.

I couldn’t blame Logan, of course. I couldn’t blame anyone for loving Breena – and if I was honest with myself I knew that he loved her as much as I did. It was only luck – sheer luck – that had made Breena prefer me to him. By a hair, perhaps. But not by enough.

For I had made that choice – the hardest decision I had ever made. To leave Breena, to leave the woman I loved, rather than face a lifetime of jealousy and pain as I watched her wrestle with her indecision. If Logan could face a lifetime with half of her heart only, he was welcome to it, but I could not. I could not bear a life with her, knowing she loved him, too, knowing she would never fully give herself over to the power of love the way I had. If Logan could, then so be it! But I was the Winter King, the Snow Prince, the Lord of Ice. I deserved – I needed – I craved more than being Breena’s sometime first choice. I needed to be loved totally – or else to cure myself of this savage and sickening love forever. I needed to forget her.

And that is why I had embarked upon my quest, heading past the Atlas Mountains into this strange and nebulous land: to the Fields of Flowermead, where no Fey ever went, and from which no Fey had ever returned. It was not, like the Kingdom of the Dead, a place for shades who had not passed into the beyond – the creatures of Flowermead were never dead nor alive, but existed in a liminal space, the in-between space of shadows that only magic could carve out.

I paused halfway along the mountain pass, and from my satchel I pulled out a silver-framed mirror. I knew I should not, but I could not resist it; I gave myself over to the weakness of needing to know. I gazed into the mirror, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of myself. Bright blue eyes, crystallized with pain. My jaw twisted with anguish, the clean chiselled lines of my bones – once bearing the nobility and pride of my Winter lineage – seemingly vanished as misery ravaged my face.

And then the sight of my own eyes was gone, and I saw her instead. A beautiful young woman with long plaited hair, gleaming with strands of gold and strands of red, chestnut strands that tantalized me with their shimmering brightness. Caramel-colored eyes with flecks of green, hazel, and lavender blue – shining like the rarest of rare gems. Even now, as angry with her as I was, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming rush of love and desire; against my better judgment, I began to kiss the mirror where her reflection was displayed, imagining in my misery that the cold silver of the frame was in reality her warm and cinnamon-hot skin.

And then I saw him in the frame. Walking with Breena; his arm twined around hers, patting her hand with that wolf-like love that had always characterized his devotion. I scowled as I watched him lean in, his lips poised to kiss her at the top of her forehead…

I could bear it no longer. The agony had cut too deep. In an instant I had flung the mirror into the snow, savoring the sound of the metal ringing like a bell at the blow.

“Why, Breena?” I called into the open air, into the white clouds. “Why can’t I stop loving you? Why must I keep on feeling it – this pain, this jealousy, this weakness?”

I expected no response but my own echo, but to my surprise I heard not my own voice but another’s – hundreds of voices, laughing, mocking, twisting my words.

“Why? Why? Why?” The voice carried over the mountainsides. “Why – because of your weakness! Because you gave in.”

Among their voices there was one silvery melody – one voice – I recognized. I hardly dared to believe – I could not fathom it. But the voice I knew all too well.

“Mother?” I called out.

She shimmered into a view – a silvery, translucent figure – but her eyes were as stern and austere, as shining and hawk like, as ever.

I began to stammer in my confusion. “B-b-but…you’re dead. Redleaf killed you!”

“A moment of weakness,” my mother’s voice was hard and cold. “I fell victim to love – to the need to protect my daughter, who was no Heir, who had no Power. I was a fool to do it.”

“You were always such a strong ruler, Mother.” Words I had always wanted to say welled up in my throat.

“But not strong enough…” My mother’s lips twisted into a snarl. “Love made me weak. The way it has made you weak, my son, my Kian, once-Prince, now-King of Feyland.”

“What should I do, Mother?” A child’s need for comfort seized hold of me.

“You must no longer be ruled by this passion, my son, nor this love. They will only cause you to fail in your duties which you owe to Feyland.”

I thought once more of Breena. No matter what I did, what I tried to do, no matter how far I ran – could I ever really stop loving her? I wanted to stop – I wanted to free myself from this pain – but I couldn’t imagine anything ever working. Love was stronger than any magic.

“What must I do?” I asked her.

“There is a way,” my mother said. “But it is not an easy road. You must go to the Ancient Realms and seek there the magic of one White Witch. She has been known to cure the curse of love when it has afflicted Fey in the past.”

I sighed and nodded. ‘Then go there I must,” I said. Even as I spoke I knew the pain such an action would cause. But I knew, too, the risks. If I stayed in love with Breena – and yet lost her. To another, to Logan – it didn’t matter. I would go mad, as mad as Shasta went, if not worse. And as a King of Feyland, I owed it to my people, to my subjects, to be able to look upon Breena as an ally, as a friend, but nothing more.

“Onwards, my son!”

A portal appeared before me, shimmering like a mist.

“You must step forth. You must leap with faith in your heart!” My mother’s words were loud and clear.

“Forgive me, Breena,” I whispered.

I stepped through the portal.

Chapter 1

Breena

I missed him. Every fiber of my body called out for him. I woke up from dreams of him, sobbing. I gave myself over to the sweet balm of sleep, closed my eyes, and wished against all hope that he would be there next to me when I woke up, that his smooth cool skin would be lying against mine. But instead I woke up, night after night, morning after morning, dawn after dawn, in an agonizingly empty bed. The emptiness that overwhelmed me; the pain that floored me. The man I loved was gone.

And the worst part was that I couldn’t blame him. This guilt, this pain, was mine alone to bear. I had always known that one day I would push him too far, that one day I would hesitate too long. That one day I would destroy the happiness we shared. The knowledge had dominated my subconscious for too long – and now at last it was over. The pain was gone – like a Band-Aid being ripped off. Kian had left me; I deserved it; I had lost him.

The truth was – I loved him. But the truth was, too, that my feelings for Logan had never been fully resolved. The romance that Logan and I had shared was a history of missed opportunities and mistakes, of love potions that brought us together and circumstances that drove us apart. He remained for me the eternal mystery, the perpetual what if? I knew what my life was like with Kian; that at least was straightforward. But the what if had driven me to distraction; the what if had taken over. And I’d let it take my heart with it in the process. I’d let myself wonder if Kian and I were meant to be, or if I belonged with Logan, and in the process I had lost both of them.

Stupid, stupid, I told myself. Every morning when I woke up I repeated those same words to myself, over and over again, trying to stop the pain. Stupid girl – you had two men who loved you, and you lost them both because you couldn’t decide which of them you loved more. The guilt seared through me like fire. Perhaps the fairies were right to look down on love. This was, after all, what happened. People carried away by their emotions. People made selfish by yearning, single-minded by desire. People like me.

My mortal weakness.

And what would this mean for Feyland? If the wedding was off, that didn’t preclude me from having to see Kian every day. Whether we married or not, we had committed ourselves to an alliance between Winter and Summer, an alliance that we had to sustain regardless of our personal lives. Would we marry one another for political reasons, sleeping in separate bedrooms for the rest of our eternities, keeping secret the chasm that had grown up between us, dividing our souls? Or would we simply become colleagues, business partners, co-rulers, trying to keep our minds on the work ahead while my mind and heart and body all cried out for his touch, his fairy kiss, which at last had driven me mad?

The first few days were, in a sense, the easier. I was numb from the shock of Kian having left me – numb enough that it didn’t feel real. I told myself that I could fix it, that this was only temporary, that our break was just a fight…

I’d gone home to the Summer Court, to my mother and father. I’d cried like a child in their arms, resting my head on my mother’s chest while she stroked my hair and dried my tears.

“You two just need to talk,” said my mother. Mortal rules of dating, after all, were far from strange to her. “Talk out your issues. Get it out in the open. A lot of couples have pre-marriage jitters.”

“You should go to the Winter Palace,” said my father. “Follow him – discuss things with him there. Don’t let him leave you. If he breaks my little girl’s heart, by the Swords of Feyland, I’ll…”

My mother cut him off. “But he’s hurting too, isn’t he, Breena?”

I sniffled as I nodded.

“Darling, I love you – and I want the best for you. But for this marriage to work, you and Kian both have to make an effort…” She sighed. “I can’t deny that your feelings for Logan haven’t exactly been discreet.”

“I know,” I sobbed. “I’ve been trying to keep everything in check, to do the mature thing, the responsible thing, but…”

My mother stroked my hair. “Sometimes I forget you’re only eighteen,” she said. “You’ve done so much. Ruled a kingdom. Fought a war. Battled banshees and pixies. But in matters of the heart you’re still practically a little girl.” She sighed. “Are you sure this marriage is what you want, my darling?”

“Of course it is!” I cried.

“But you’re so young. In the mortal world you would never have thought about getting married this young. You could have gone to college, had time to grow up, to explore who you are…All options Feyland doesn’t give you.”

My father said nothing. He knew, after all, that my mother was right.

“It shouldn’t just be about whether or not Kian still wants to marry you,” said my mother. “But about whether you’re willing to get married, whether you’re ready to forsake all others for Kian for the rest of eternity. Divorce isn’t an option – not for a state marriage like this. You have to be sure.” She held me close. “And you need to set boundaries with Logan, too. If you choose Kian. You need to be ready to choose your husband over your friend – to let Logan find another girl whom he can love, who can love him.”

I nodded. I had to be mature, to listen to her words. But my heart – my immature, young, heart – wouldn’t, couldn’t agree. I wanted Logan; I wanted Kian. Even now, as I missed Kian, I also felt the pain of losing Logan.

He was right to leave you, I told myself. He was right to go away. He’ll never love you now – now that you’ve let him down, disappointed him.

But I had to make it work with Kian – I had to make things right. Deep down I knew that he was my one true love, the person I was meant to be with, the person I was meant to unite my soul to forever and ever.

And so, buoyed by my mother’s words and by a sense of hope that rose up within me like a flame, I made the three-day journey to the Winter Palace. I sent away my guards; I couldn’t face them. Not now, when I stopped to sob every five minutes, the winter wind freezing my tears into snowflakes on my face. I had to do this journey alone. All along the ride I kept thinking about Kian’s face, Kian’s voice. I played the scene out in my head a hundred times, over and over again, trying to make sense of it all.

“Kian,” I would say. “Kian – I love you. It’s been hard for me to adapt to fairy ways, to the promise of settling down with one person for the rest of eternity at this age. I admit it – I’ve been foolish. I’ve let my fears about our future, and my feelings for Logan, get in the way of our love. But no more. I’m ready to commit to you – always and forever. I’m willing to give Logan up, to set boundaries between us until you feel sure that you’re the one I’ve chosen for the rest of my days. Being without you has made me realize how much I miss you; how much I need you. Please, Kian, whatever you do, whatever else you decide, just come home. To me. Because I love you, Kian, King of Winter, Emperor of Feyland. I love you the way the twin suns of Feyland love one another. You are my twin sun; you are the other half of myself.

Please forgive me.”

I whispered these words to myself all along the path; I slept in tents and dreamed that he was beside me, warming me with his lips, making me shiver and shudder with the joy of having his body near mine. I would make it right – I told myself. I had to make it right. The second Kian saw me when I arrived at the Winter Palace, the moment he saw my face, he would realize how much I loved him. He would realize how right it was for us to be together. Of this I was sure.

When at last the marble spires and silver towers of the Winter Palace came into view, my heart began to gallop with anticipation, the heartbeat quickening with every step I took upon my steed until I could hardly breathe.

“Your Highness,” one of the servants, a girl called Silvertree, bowed deep. She blushed slightly and looked nervous.

“Where is he?” I stammered in my eagerness to see him. “Where is King Kian?”

“He’s…” Silvertree’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, your Highness. He’s gone away.”

“Away where?” My stomach plummeted. “Where’s he gone?”

“I don’t know, Your Highness,” Silvertree looked nervous. “He didn’t say. But he left a note…”

“Bring it to me!” In my frustration my voice had grown sharp, imperious, and I was ashamed to see how frightened the girl was as she scurried away to carry out my command. When she re-appeared, though, the note in hand, I couldn’t contain myself. I all but seized it from between her fingers.

I ripped open the envelope, scanning the words, feeling my heart break as I read the letter, written in his perfect, graceful hand…

Breena,

I love you, but I do not know if I can do this. I do not know if I can face this pain. I must go away for a while, to take stock of my thoughts, to ask myself whether I can live forever in the shadow of the Wolf Prince, satisfied with your divided heart when all I want is your full, whole one. I have decided to take a journey that I hope will provide me with some answers. Please do not look for me; do not try to find me. When I know if I can marry you – I will return with my answer. Until then, keep yourself safe. Keep the kingdom together. I have faith in you. I know this letter will hurt you – and although I would rather die than cause you pain I know that hurting you now will prevent us from hurting one another far worse later on. I will miss you with all my heart – but believe me, this is the right choice.

Better to lose one another now, than suffer after our wedding.

Yours,

Kian

His signature was the last thing I saw as my head hit the floor.

Chapter 2

Breena

I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I’d spent hours – days, even – sobbing on the floor, tears pouring down my face, choking on my own heartbreak. I’d shuddered and shook behind closed doors, with lonly a few trusted servants able to attend on me. We had to keep my devastation secret – that much I knew, even through the haze of my heartbreak. Nobody could know the truth about me and Kian; the truth would make me weak. If my enemies were to ever find out that I was devastated by love, and that Kian and I were no longer together, I knew that they could use that weakness against me. They could manipulate me into doing whatever they wanted – right now I felt I would do anything, no matter how dangerous, no matter how risky, if it meant bringing Kian back.

They took me back to the Summer Court, Silvertree and the other servants. I lay on a bed of satin and hay in the back of a carriage disguised to look like the carriages of unpretentious merchants who often make the rounds between Winter and Summer. Nobody could know that the girl who lay catatonic in the back, sobbing out her heart, stuffing straw into her mouth to drown out the screams, was their cherished Summer Queen, their cherished Empress of the United Feyland. For three days my mind and body burned with the fire of fever as my body convulsed and I threw up any attempt at sustenance. I couldn’t keep down food; I couldn’t even keep down water. I shook violently when the carriage made bumps over the dirt and cobblestoned roads, both at the turbulence and at the demands of my own heart.

You’ve lost him. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain of knowing he had gone, that I would not and could not know his decision, that I could do nothing to sway his choice, filled me with stinging, burning agony. You’ve lost him, and now he won’t ever love you again. You fool. He’s given up on you at last.

I threw up in a ditch between Autumn and Summer.

I spent three days in bed upon my arrival home, attended upon only by a few select servants. I wouldn’t even let my mother or father visit me. I couldn’t face them. Their kind eyes would fall upon my face; they would see my degradation and my shame, and I knew that I would not be able to control the weeping under their eyes. They knew, better than anybody, how much I loved Kian. But they knew, too, how I had driven him away – how my own fault had led to my downfall. I could see it in my mother’s eyes when she gave me advice about winning Kian back: she knew just how much I was to blame for Kian’s abandonment. She knew my indecision had led Logan on, and led Kian on, too.

I’ll never forgive myself, I whispered into my pillow, which was streaked with grubby tears. Never, ever. No matter how long I live – even if I survive for the rest of eternity – I’ll go on missing him. Waiting for him. Wanting him. Waiting for my love to come home to me.

But it wasn’t enough. My dreams, my prayers, my tear-stained whispers – none of these things would bring my love back to me. Kian was gone – gone to I knew not where – making the decision that held my future in the balance.

Perhaps it would have been easier if he had made a clean break, I told myself. I could have mourned; I could have missed him. But I would at least have had to move on. Instead I had to fear every letter that came to my doorstep, terrified that it would be his answer, his no, the final cut that severed my heart in two. I had to fear each morning that he would break my heart again. I couldn’t think about ruling my kingdom; I couldn’t think about being the Queen I wanted to be. I could think about one thing and one thing only: Kian. The fact that my whole existence depended on the decision he had not yet made.

And how long would it take for him to make it, I wondered, terror seizing hold of my body. Would I wait for hours? Years? Centuries? The vast expanse of time before me felt terrifying – how long would I wait in this perpetual limbo, not knowing when the pain would end? It was the not-knowing that was worse, even, than the heartbreak. For how could I ever return to my normal life? How could I ever sit down on my throne and rule this land, all the while feeling his absence, feeling the possibility of obliteration of my mind and heart and body with a single word from his beautiful, perfect lips?

I was angry, too, amid all the pain. Amid my own crippling guilt. Angry that the punishment far more than outweighed the crime. Yes, I had doubts in my own mind about Kian – but I had stayed faithful to him, hadn’t I? I had chosen him; I had stood by him. And now Kian was condemning me to a pain more serious than any he could have suffered by my hands. Kian had never been in danger of losing me – not as now I was in danger of losing him. He had as good as killed me.

How dare he? Half of my mind was self-righteous, furious. How dare he hurt you in this way?

But the other half whispered poisonous, snake-like secrets into my ear. Because you deserve it. You flightly, feeble girl. You deserve whatever you get. You deserve this pain. If he never comes back, never answers your call, leaves you waiting for him for the rest of eternity – it’s more than you deserve.

I couldn’t do my job; I couldn’t even breathe. How could I ever withstand this agony?

At last, on the third day of my illness, and on the sixth day since I had read Kian’s fatal letter and fainted upon the marble floor of the Throne Room, I heard a knock on the door of my room.

“Hello?” I moaned. “Please, go away. I don’t want to see anybody.”

“Please, your Highness,” it was Silvertree, looking worried. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“Is it...?” I hardly dared to hope. My heart leaped within my chest.

“It’s not the King, your Highness,” said Silvertree. “I’m sorry.” She looked down and blushed. “But it’s someone you’ll want to see.”

“I told my mother not to…”

“Not your mother.” Silvertree shot me a small smile.

“My father, then?” I was getting tired of this game.

“No!” A booming, familiar voice rang out across my bedroom. “I’ve come to bring you back to life, my Queen.”

Even now, Logan’s voice had the power to soften the blow, to ameliorate the effects of my pain. As he strode in, his face spreading into a smile, I felt a strange sense of relief. Whenever I was lonely or heartbroken as a child, it was Logan who would fix it, Logan who would take away whatever worried me. And here he was again – attending at the worst moment of my life.

“Logan!” I hurriedly wiped away my tears, ashamed at my appearance. I hadn’t combed my hair in days; I was still in my nightgown.

“Breena…” His eyes were so full of love and devotion, even now. At least one of you hasn’t left me, I couldn’t help but think through the pain.

“I thought you were in the mortal world,” I said. “Getting food.”

“I was,” Logan said. “But we’ve just wrapped up a run.” He grinned. “Nearly all the food has gone into the larders and pantries of Winter and Summer Fey. But I did save you one thing.”

I gasped as he produced a package from his back: my favorite Fajita Mix Pack from World Mart. Not something I’d ever expected to see here, in the land of Fairy. The gaudy yellow plastic packaging contrasted with the splendor of the palace – my mahogany bed, the silk sheets, the fire roaring in the fireplace. But I couldn’t help but laugh.

“When I heard the, uh, bad news,” Logan said. “I thought maybe I could do something to cheer you up. The same thing that cheered you up in sixth grade, when Clariss ruined your Environmental Club and you were depressed for weeks. I figured if your favorite Fajita Mix worked once, it would work again…”

“I never thought I’d eat one of those again,” I said, half-smiling.

“We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we, Bree?” Logan sat down at my bedside and patted my hand. “And from the looks of it, you need something to eat – you look gaunt. Your Highness, your kingdom’s not going to get ruled from this bed…”

“I know…” I moaned, but I couldn’t face Logan. Not after my pain. Not now.

“Someone’s got to make sure you get back on your feet,” said Logan. “And it might as well be me.” He started. “As your friend, Bree, I am. Nothing more.”

I paused for a moment, hesitating. How would Kian feel, knowing Logan was here? But Kian was gone – given up on me, on us. And Logan was the only friend I had left, the one I could always rely on…

“Let’s go for a walk, Bree.”

“I took his hand.”

Chapter 3

Breena

It was the first time I had seen sunlight in days. It took my eyes a while to adjust to the balmy golden glow that engulfed the gardens and orchards of the Summer Court. On an ordinary day – a day during which my heart had not broken itself as it did every moment of my being – I would have marvelled in the beauty of that sunshine. I would have gasped at the orange and golden glimmers that set into sunset relief the crimson and red flowers and the intoxicatingly delicious fruits of the garden. I would have inhaled the sweet, crisp smell of apples and dewberries, oranges and quinces, and nameless fairy fruits which exuded a bright and delirium-inducing odor from their vines. I would have reminded myself how lucky I was to be living in Feyland; I would have gasped in surprise – because no matter how much time I spent here, among these fruits, within these walls, I never truly got used to Feyland. It was never really real. It was just a dream – an illusion – a midsummer night’s spectacle – a figment of my imagination.

But now it seemed all too real. With my heartbreak had come another break, too: the loss of my illusions about Feyland. It no longer seemed as beautiful to me as it had once did, nor as stunning; it no longer called to me with that soft, repeated cry of “come home!” “come home!” Instead, I felt like a stranger here. Without Kian to anchor me to this strange world, I missed the simpler pleasures of the mortal realm. Nachos on a Sunday afternoon. Television. Even the Internet. But most of all I missed the world I had lost – the world where the stakes were lower, where my breath was calmer, where decisions about matters of the heart might cause a night of tears of even a few weeks of pain, but where this level of heartbreak was impossible. Or at least, that was what I’d hoped. I no longer savored Feyland; instead, I missed the world I’d left behind. How easy everything was, when we weren’t facing death and battles around every corner; when bloodshed was something I saw on television, and not on the steps of my own palace.

I had seen men die; I had even killed some of them. I had run my sword through banshees’ chests and cut off the heads of pixies. And right now, I wanted to forget all of that, all of the mess and stench that people who never understood anything at all called heroism. I wanted to forget the person I had become, forget this crown and this throne. I wanted to go home.

Logan took my hand, wiping away my tears with the side of his hand. His gestures were careful, even jerky. It was clear that he feared going too far, lingering too long. He was trying hard – so very hard – to remain friendly without breaking any boundaries, pushing too hard against the resistance that at this point, I knew, I was hardly bothering to give. I didn’t have the energy to fight off my feelings for him any longer; and yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. Sadness had gripped hold of my limbs and my mind. What did it matter if I stopped pushing Logan away now? I’d already lost Kian. I’d already lost everything that mattered.

“What are you thinking about, Breena?” Logan turned towards me. “You’re so distracted…”

“I know,” I apologized. “I haven’t really been coping so well with – everything that’s been happening lately.” The familiar tears stung at my eyes and the lump in my throat rose higher. I wanted to forget the pain – even for a moment – but I knew I couldn’t. All I wanted was to obliterate thought…

“Look at me, Breena.” Logan took my hands and pressed them against his chest. “Your hands are so cold, Breena.” He began to rub them. “How are you so cold?”

“I…I don’t know…” I sniffled. But deep down I felt sure what the reason was. Kian was leaving me – and with it my life-force was leaving me. My body, responding to the loss of his magic, was shutting down; it was stopping to work. I no longer wanted to survive without him.

“Listen to me, Breena,” Logan’s eyes were full of pain. The puppy-dog look I had come to associate with him was now darker, more severe. Filled with a self-assurance I had never seen in him before. “Whatever happened – it wasn’t your fault. I’m not going to lie that a part of me, a sick, irrational, part of me, was glad that he’s out of the way. But I need you to know, Breena. You never led me on. You never were anything less than honest with me. As much as it hurts me to admit it – I led myself on, much more than you led me on. I wanted to believe you were interested in me; I wanted to take every sign of friendship you showed me as proof that maybe you felt something more, something real…” He sighed.

“Why are you telling me this?” My voice began to waver. I didn’t think I could stand the pain another second.

“Because,” Logan said, looking down. “Kian had no right to do what he did. If anyone was to blame for what made him jealous, it was me, not you. I screwed up, Breena, bad. Whenever you tried to push me away, to tell me that you’d chosen Kian over me – I didn’t listen. I pushed your boundaries – and I’m so, so sorry for that.” He looked down sheepishly. “And I’ll tell him that, too. If that’s what you want.” He smiled half-heartedly. “If he needs to know that it wasn’t your fault…”

I shook my head. “He’s gone,” I said. “I don’t know where he is, where he went. I don’t know anything at all. All I know is that…he’s done with me.” I started crying again, great racking sobs. I saw jealousy spread across Logan’s face, but he struggled to keep it down, to focus instead on comforting me.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Logan. “He loves you, Breena. And let me tell you – nobody that falls in love with you can ever really let you go.” A flicker of darkness appeared upon his face. “No matter how much we might try to. I can guarantee that Kian is thinking of you right now, missing you…”

“You really think so?” I felt terrible, talking about Kian to Logan, knowing how much it was hurting him. But right now I needed a friend – any friend – anyone I could talk to. And I knew there was nobody else in all of Feyland I could trust.

“You’re a lot of men’s weak spot,” Logan said. “Now, please let me try to cheer you up. We’ve got a lot of work to do, putting Feyland back together, and it’s simply not going to happen if their Emperor is gone and their Empress is catatonic…”

“I’m not catatonic,” I murmured.

“Yes,” said Logan. “Yes, you are. And you need to not be. I know you, Breena. You’re strong. You can beat this. Even heartbreak, which believe me, I know from experience is the worst thing that can ever happen to you – you can recover from this. You can move on, stay focused, stay in control. I did.”

His look made me ashamed. This pain that I was feeling now – was it the same pain that Logan had been feeling for so many years? Pain I had inflicted. Now I knew what it was like to be waiting for somebody else, hoping against hope, and yet knowing deep down in my heart that it was over, that we were through. Now I could understand for the first time the depth of what I had put Logan through.

“Logan…” I whispered, choking on my tears. “I’m so sorry – so, so sorry.”

He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

“Never you mind…” he said. “Let’s forget all about it, okay? I’d rather just move on – and so can you, Breena. We’ve hurt each other, now. And we can either dwell on it or we can move ahead – the way I hope to do. The kingdom needs us now. Not as lovers but as friends. As allies. As best friends.” He took my hand. “Can we do it, Breena? I know it will be hard for both of us, but I really think we’re what Feyland needs right now. This is what Feyland needs right now.”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’m afraid right now, if I don’t stay away from you, with everything going on between me and Kian…” I sighed. “But I can’t rule Feyland alone. And if Kian is gone, I need my advisor. My friend. Someone I can rely on.”

“I promise, Breena,” he said. “I’ve learned once already what happens when I push things too far. I’ll respect whatever distance you want to set between us. When Kian comes back – and he will, Breena – he’ll see that he was wrong, that we’re just friends now, nothing  more. That you were, and are, loyal to him. Faithful to him.”

Poor Logan, I thought to myself. Even now, he was sacrificing his own feelings, his own wants, for the good of Feyland. But could I do the same?

“All the same,” said Logan darkly. “When he does come back, I do intend to give him a piece of my mind!”

“Logan!”

“It’s true,” said Logan hotly. “He had a great thing going and he screwed it up because he was too damn stupid to see what was going on in front of his own face. Anyone stupid enough to leave you deserves a good punch in the face.” He scowled. “I know, if things had been different, I never would have.”

The silence was deafening in its awkwardness. We looked at each other, and I could see the love vying with the fear in his face.

“Anyway,” he said, trying rapidly to change the subject. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something important.”

“What do you mean?”

Logan took a deep breath.

“There’s something in the air,” he said. “Strange magic afoot.”

“Again?” I smiled, only half-bitterly.

“Sit down, Breena,” Logan began. “This might take a while…”

Chapter 4

Kian

I wasn’t sure where I was. The cold was bitter and seeped through me, slicing at my bones like a knife. This surprised me. I was the Winter Prince, after all – the snow and the frost were my elements. How could it be that the cold bothered me now? I shivered as I looked around me, taking stock of my surroundings, frowning as I tried to make out something familiar. Evidently wherever I was, it wasn’t the Winter Kingdom. I had power there; the cold could not affect me there. But this place was different. We were at the very outskirts of Feyland, now, a place where my magic, like my dominion, held less sway. I tried to squint through the snow, but I could see little except fog that clouded my eyes.

“Hello?” I called out, to whomever was listening. “Is anybody there?”

Only my own voice replied, an echo that shrieked with the whistling wind. “Hello? Is anybody there?”

My own voice seemed to mock me, I thought grimly. It only reminded me of my loneliness – of how much I missed her.

No, Kian, be strong. Forget her – you have to forget her. You have to be free of her. I thought of what I had seen in the mirror, the vision that made my heart split in two like a cracked stone, the vision of her, my beloved, my Breena, with Logan. Him kissing her pale, starry forehead. I had not heard their words, but I had seen enough. I had seen how comfortable she was with him; I had seen the puppy-dog love in his eyes. Typical, I thought to myself, grimacing. No sooner do you leave than your love decides she’s better off with him. She didn’t even wait until your shared bed was cold before going after her new love – her beloved Logan. And you thought she loved you? The thoughts echoed in my head; they were agonizing. The voice in my head was not my own, but another voice – high-pitched, serpentine, cruel. The voice that shook through my body and made me want to vomit. She never loved you, Kian, you fool. She never will love you.

That is what my mother had implied, after all, wasn’t it? That my love had made me weak. That my love had caused me to lose everything I cared about. I ought to have been sitting alongside my mother on the silver thrones of the Winter Palace, ruling Feyland, with an iron fist and a hard heart. But instead I was here – here in these wild woods, I knew not where – mourning the woman whose lavender eyes and soft, cinnamon-scented skin had sent me into the madness that had transformed me into a creature no better than a beast, a dog, a Wolf.

“Hello!” I called out again. “Who is there?”

My echo answered me, but by this time my eyes had begun to adjust to the midst, and I was able to make out a few huts in the near distance. These were stone thatched huts – could it be? A village. Not a large one by any stretch – a hamlet’s worth of houses congregated in a circle. The moon shone brightly over the fields as I inched closer to the houses. One of them in particular seemed to beckon to me. From the window I could see the bright licking flames of what looked like a roaring fire; although I could not feel its warmth, I instinctively moved towards the house, longing for some sort of shelter.

As I drew closer to the house I began to hear shouting and laughter – the voices of fairies. They were speaking in a dialect I did not quite understand, one of the Fey languages common in the borderlands, among people who did not mix often with the Fey of central towns. But I could make out a few words. “Beer,” for starters. “Two glasses.” I smiled to myself as I realized where I was – the local village pub.

The glowing warmth of the fire greeted me as I entered, allowing my face to grow hot with the delicious warmth from the flames. I took a seat alone next to the fire, and an empty table. Of course, my presence was far from unnoticed. An unearthly hush fell over the denizens of the tavern as I passed by them – they all fixed their gaze on me, their stares intense, even suspicious.

“Who’s he?” One of them had leaned in and was whispering to the other. “Looks familiar…”

“Not from around these parts, though,” another was saying. “A perfect stranger. I don’t trust him.”

But one woman among the group did not hang back suspiciously, but rather came to sit down beside me. She was beautiful – strikingly beautiful – with long dandelion-colored hair that fell almost to her feet, and eyes the color of cornflowers that bore deep into me with a searching look as she cast her eyes up and down my features, looking for something…

“I know who you are, Prince Kian,” she said, her voice rich and melodious, her accent lilting with the traces of something foreign. I couldn’t deny that my body reacted involuntarily to her presence, to the light touch of her hand on mine. For all of my love of Breena, I was not entirely immune to the charms of beauty elsewhere, and I felt my heart beat faster as her hair fell over my hand. She looked up at me.

“And I know what you’re looking for. We too, have mirrors.”

“What am I looking for?” I asked her, meeting her gaze. “Can you help me?”

“Now, now, my Prince…” Her voice turned dark with warning. “I don’t work for free, do I? It is my trade – and a girl needs to eat…” She laughed softly in my ear, her breath tickling my neck. “And sleep.”

“Very well,” I said. Turning slightly red at the effects of her touch, I reached into my pouch and put a few gold coins on the table.

“There…” She stretched out her hands, expectantly. I picked up the coins and pressed them directly into her palms. Her fingers closed swiftly around mine and I shivered at the softness of her touch. “That’s better, isn’t it, my Prince?”

She leaned in closely. “I see your journey,” she said. “In your eyes. But I will read it better if I can see it in your hands, instead.” She took my right hand and turned it facing upwards, studying it with her sylph-like fingers. “Yes,” she said. “Just as I suspected. But you won’t find what you’re looking for here. You’re still technically in Feyland – albeit, in a part of Feyland that is far, far away from anything you’re used to, or anything you’re expecting. The one who can help you does not dwell in Feyland, for she is not bound by Feyland’s power.”

“In the Mortal World, then?” I asked, and the young woman laughed.

“Silly Prince,” she said. “You think there are only two worlds, don’t you? But I tell you there are more dimensions than you at least have ever dreamed of, and she – for she is the one who can save you – belongs to one of them. You must keep wondering and wandering, until you are beyond Feyland and Feyland cannot touch you, cross into the Ancient Realms.”

“The Ancient Realms?” My mouth fell open. “But they don’t exist.”

“They do, my Prince,” she said. “And Gail lives there.”

“Gail?”

“She has many names. Some call her Gail. Some call her the White Witch. She is the one who can cure you of your…tragic affliction.” She traced her fingers along my chest. “So that you can enjoy other fruits.” She licked her lips slowly, tantalizing me. “But she, too, has her price.  You should be prepared to give her whatever it is that she seeks…”

“What does she want?”

“Who can say?” The woman laughed. “Who can know? The question is – are you ready to find out? Is there anything that you wouldn’t give, if it meant being freed at last of that accursed infection, that odious infliction, Love? Is there anything you would refuse to do, if only it would mean making the pain stop?”

I sighed deeply. I knew that agreeing blindly to something like this was stupid. One didn’t mess with powers one didn’t understand – that rule was hard and fast in Feyland. But my disease was rooted too deep for any other cure. In desperate times, I knew, desperate measures had to be taken. And with the loss of my trust in Breena, I was desperate. There was no way I could rule Feyland, no way I could be around her, unless I was healed of the love that had destroyed me so utterly, so terribly.

And I couldn’t stand my own pain an instant longer. I was sold – hook, line, sinker.

“There is nothing, my lady,” I said, taking her hand. “That I would not do to be free of this affliction.”

Perhaps you can enjoy women again. Women like her. The thought burned my heart. No love. Only enjoyment. Only cold, casual transactions of the flesh.

“You will come back, won’t you?” she said. “Once you’re cured. I’d like you to visit me and…test that theory.” She gave me an inscrutable grin, and I wondered how much of my thoughts she had heard. People out here, after all, had powers we normal Fey did not have.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. Right now, I couldn’t picture kissing anyone but Breena – but the knowledge that one day I might be able to, sustained me. “It is best that I give up this love. That I make this sacrifice. The Winter Fey are not made for whatever it is I feel – it is a profanation of the sacred laws of the old magic’s.”

“Courage, my Prince,” said the woman. “Come with me, and I will show you the way.”

She led me across a windy and empty moor, towards a valley split in the middle of two tall, craggy mountains.

“These mountains cannot be climbed,” she said to me. “There is only one way beyond. Through those stone gates there is a crevice, a path that goes into the Ancient Realms. Are you ready to go?”

She waited for me to press more coins into her hands. I emptied the bag. Somehow, I reasoned, Gail the White Witch would want more from me than money for her pains.

“I’m ready,” I said.

She kissed my cheek. “Good luck, traveller,” she said. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

I nodded. “I hope so, too.”

I took a deep breath and started walking towards the gates.

Chapter 5

Breena

“A lot’s been happening, Breena,” Logan began, looking down as he shook his head. His hands were warm on mine, but there was a strange expression on his face. Something that I had never seen before, that seemed to course through me – his intensity was infectious.

“You’re making me nervous, Logan,” I said. “What’s going on. Is something the matter?”

There was a long, pregnant pause. “No,” Logan said at last. “Nothing’s the matter. Not that – exactly.”

“But this strange magic you say is afoot – what is it? What does it mean?”

Logan took a deep breath. “Do  you know?” He looked into my eyes, his gaze terrifyingly intense. “Do you know how the Wolves lost their magic?”

I shook my head.

“It’s an old Wolf story, one I’ve never told you before. Back in the old days – long ago, before Summer and Winter were even divided – there was a fairy called Connell. And he was of the family that eventually came to rule the Summer Court, although there was no division at that time. And he was forced to fight a great, pitched battle against a dread nemesis...a battle he was sure that he would never win.”

I smiled bitterly. “It seems that we get quite a lot of those in Feyland,” I said, unable to hold back a dark laugh.

“Well, he knew that it was now or never – that he had to defeat this enemy, or else the extinction of his entire race, all his people, was at stake. And so he did the unthinkable. He consulted a witch, Panthea, one of the most powerful and most dangerous witches in Feyland....”

“I’m confused,” I admitted. “What does all this have to do with us?”

“Listen!” Logan’s voice was hoarse. “He promised the witch he’d do anything, whatever it took, in order to be able to defeat the enemy. And the witch told him she’d give him the power to do it: but at a price. He had to sacrifice his magic. And so she transformed him into a Wolf...”

I gasped as I began to understand the story.

“Then you mean...”

“Connell,” he said. “The Red Wolf. The first Wolf. My ancestor. He was once a Fey – we were once Fey like you, only we had our magic stolen from us by this enchantress. But it’s come back, Breena.”

“Come back?” This was ridiculous! I’d never heard of Wolves having magic before – and here was Logan, standing before me, telling me that the Wolves now had magic just like ours.

“Yes, come back,” said Logan. He held out his hand. “Look!”

I gasped at what I saw. Small sparks – green, the color of emeralds – were appearing around his fingers, their glow warm and oddly, alluringly, beautiful.

“But how?” I turned to him. “This witch...”

“Oh, Breena.” Logan looked pained. “There’s so much I want to tell you – so much that I know I will have to explain to you with time. But right now I need you to trust me. There’s something going on, something that I’m involved with. I’m responsible for bringing the magic back to the Wolves. I know that now – it’s my destiny. It was always my destiny.”

“Then...”

“I have magic,” Logan said. “Just like you. Maybe not just...” He blushed. “I’m still learning how to use it. But I’ve been able to levitate things, alone in my room. I don’t dare use it for fighting – I don’t want to expose the secret of the Wolf magic to anyone I’m not 100% sure I can trust. These are dangerous times, after all.” He furrowed his brow. “For the Wolves as much for anyone else,” he added darkly.

“But what do you mean?” I asked him. “After all, isn’t this a good thing for the Wolves? You should be celebrating.”

“I’m not,” said Logan. His face had grown hard and stern. “We Wolves aren’t used to this power. Unlike you Fey we have no laws about it, no means of controlling it. We aren’t taught from birth how to harness our skills. Instead, we’re getting untold power head-on. And things are happening. Things that only magic can explain. Earthquakes, for example. Volcanos erupting. People who don’t even know each other getting into brawls that leave only scorched earth behind. I’m worried for my people, Breena. I’m worried that this magic is coming on too strong...”

“What’s it like?” I couldn’t resist asking. “Having magic, I mean. After all this time?”

Logan leaned back, inhaling deeply. “Amazing...” he said. “Heady, overwhelming, wonderful. Sweet – bitter – dangerous. Like strong wine. You feel this amazing rush...”

I smiled. I remembered that rush all too well. That excitement I’d experienced when I’d learned to  use my magic properly for the first time. When I was with Kian...

O, Kian...Even now he came unbidden into my thoughts, his beautiful form shattering my thoughts like a hammer. The smile vanished from my face; my cheeks turned pale as I reeled from the suddenness of the pain.

“What is it?” Logan took a step towards me. “Are you all right, Breena?”

“I’m okay,” I said, looking away. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. I’d hurt him enough – why stoke the fires of his jealousy even more than I already had. “I’m just having a bit of a headache.”

“That’s why I came to see you, Breena,” Logan returned to the matter at hand. “Partly to help you – of course. As a friend. As somebody who loves  you – and always will. But also as one of your loyal subjects, who needs your help, and who needs it badly. I need your guidance to help keep the Wolves in check – guidance from those with more experience than I have when it comes to harnessing the powers magic can bring.”

“I’m not the person you should be asking,” I said. “I know my own magic well – but I don’t have nearly the experience that someone like Rose or Alistair does.”

I saw Logan blush at the mention of Rose’s name, and felt a combination of gladness and bitterness at that fact. I knew Logan had been dreaming about Rose for a while – that she had caught his eye, as much as he hated to admit it. He, certainly, had caught hers. She was head over heels for Logan. And poor Alistair, Rose’s first love, didn’t have a clue.

What a mess, I couldn’t help but thinking. Alistair loves Rose who loves Logan who loves me who loves Kian. And none of us are any happier for it. Perhaps the Fey wisdom was right, I thought, trying to hold myself together, to stop the heartbreak from spilling out. Perhaps being in love wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Sure, there were exceptions. My mother and father, for example. They seemed awfully happy. But they’d gone through a lot of pain and suffering – both their own, and that they had caused in others – to get where they were today. An adulterous liaison that nearly destroyed a nation – was this the best model of a happy relationship I had? Or Shasta and Rodney – a love that had resulted in Shasta’s summoning the Dark Hordes?

“We have to talk to the others,” said Logan. “You’re right.”

I took his hand. “Alistair and Rose are both here in the Summer Palace,” I said. “They’ve been working on a solution to the harvest problem. They’re getting close – awfully close. With any luck, you won’t have to go on so many trips to the Land Beyond the Crystal River.”

“That’s a mixed blessing,” said Logan, grinning. “I was getting awfully used to spending my afternoons eating a cheeseburger and surfing the Internet. I even got to catch up on TV!”

“TV…” I couldn’t help but smile. “Funny, isn’t it? Most of the people we know here have no idea what a TV is. And I guess it’s pretty frivolous, us missing stuff like that when there’s a war on – or was.”

“I don’t think it’s that frivolous,” said Logan, turning to me. “It’s the life we knew, after all. Don’t you miss it?”

“I…I don’t know,” I admitted. “Sometimes. I don’t miss my family, at least. Now that my mother and father are both in Feyland, I don’t have to miss them. But I do miss the little things. Microwaves. Heating. How easy everything was, compared to here. I mean, I remember when I was worried about Clariss making fun of me at lunchtime, not about her turning into a giant serpent and eating people.”

“What do you think the people at our high school would have said – if they knew she could do that?”

I laughed. “I’m not sure I would have been that surprised,” I said. “She always was a slippery one.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Sometimes. I miss things not mattering so much. I can’t make mistakes anymore. Not like in the old days. If I screw up, people die. Or my heart gets broken forever…” I swallowed. “I miss being able to be a kid.”

“I guess we’ll never be kids again, huh?” Logan looked away.

“Guess so.”

We found Alistair and Rose in the laboratory, hunched over potions. Their foreheads were close – they were almost touching. When they noticed our presence, Alistair jumped back, an embarrassed blush spreading over his face.

“Oh, uh, Queen Breena!” Alistair stuttered. “Sir Logan! We were just…”

Rose too had turned crimson, staring at Logan with such palpable longing that I felt uncomfortable. Alistair, however, seemed completely oblivious to the effect Logan had on his love.

“We were just finishing the potion,” explained Rose matter-of-a-factly.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” I said. “Or Logan does, actually. Something you should hear.”

When Logan had finished his story and recounted the tale of the Red Wolf to us, Alistair and Rose sat stock-still, in shock.

“So…you’re a Fey, now.” Rose looked fascinated. “With magic and everything?”

“I am,” said Logan. “Or at least – I seem to be.” A few more green sparks appeared at his fingertips. “But it remains to be seen what that means for me – or for Feyland.”

Rose smiled shyly. “We’ve got our work cut out for us then,” she said. “Trying to figure out what to do with all these Wolves.”

Logan turned grave. “They are my people,” he said. “I want to protect them. To help them learn to use their gifts wisely.”

“Well, nothing’s ever boring in Feyland, is it?” Alistair laughed.

It was good to laugh again, to spend time with friends. It helped me forget about the pain that had incapacitated me for so long.

But of course, I knew, I could never really forget. But for now, I supposed, this was close enough.

“There is much to do,” I said. “So let’s get started.”

Chapter 6

Breena

That night I slept fitfully. My sweat stained the bedclothes. I rolled around, tangling myself in the silk sheets. I screamed – my voice echoing off the ceiling. I screamed and screamed and screamed again, writhing, as the images seeped into my brain. It wasn't the normal dream. The normal dream – the normal pain – was one I had almost gotten used to by now. I would dream of Kian as he was on his quest in the distant lands where I could not reach him, dream of his beautiful face clouded by anger, the love I recognized in his eyes gone forever. I would dream that I rushed to his side, my face streaked with tears, begging him to forgive me, to take me back, to allow us to be again what we once were.

“We will never be again what we once were,” he said, and turned away.

The pain set me on fire. The agony made me convulse. I could have stood fury in his eyes; I could have stood hatred. But what I couldn't stand was the calm, collected, manner in which he spoke those words. A manner that showed no love, no regret. It was polite, even disinterested. And that was what filled me with such loneliness – the knowledge that Kian, whom I loved, whom I cared for, who meant everything to me, no longer cared enough even to hate me.

“Please, Kian, give me another chance.” The words I repeated night after night, in exceeding pain, begging his dream-self to take me back. “I don't love Logan the way I love you – I never did. I cared for him as a friend, nothing more. I let my fear of commitment get in the way of what I needed, deep down – committing to you. One hundred percent. Totally, completely. We belong to one another, you and I, Kian. We belong to each other, body and soul. We can't just forget that, ignore that. We can't just pretend that isn't true. I miss you so much...”

“I'm sorry, Breena.” His kindness was worse than his cruelty. “I'm so sorry I cannot give you what you need. But I'm afraid I just don't love you any longer. I loved you so hard, and so long, for such a long time. I gave you chances after chances, tried to ignore your betrayal, tried to ignore my own heartbreak. And one day, I suppose, I just got pushed too far. One day I realized that I was done with this pain, with this longing. That I was no longer interested in spending my time chasing after a woman who couldn't even give me the dignity of telling me she didn't love me the way I loved her. A woman who promised me eternity and couldn't even give me today.”

Normally, that was the dream that woke me up, that made me sit up straight, screaming, covered in sweat. The first night after Logan's return, he'd rushed to my bedside in terror upon hearing that scream, convinced I was being murdered.

“He doesn't love me,” I was sobbing, whispering, shaking. “He doesn't love me anymore – he told me so...”

“You were just having a nightmare.” Logan put his strong, warm arms around me. “It wasn't real. Don't worry, Breena. It doesn't mean anything.”

“Dreams means something!” I cried. “Kian and I are connected, telepathically. My thoughts are his thoughts. If he rejected me in my dreams, it's because he doesn't want me in reality! It's because he's sick of me – he doesn't care for me...”

“I'm sure that's not true.” Logan massaged my shoulders, and I could see the look of pain in his eyes. “Remember, mortal psychology is pretty reliable. And if we weren't in Feyland, I could tell you for sure what that dream was about. You projecting your fears, your worries, into nightmares. You letting your insecurities and self-doubt run away with you. I can guarantee you – Kian will be coming back to you. He will return to you. He will come home, and marry you, and love you just as much as he ever did, if not more. If I weren't so sure of that, I know, I'd...” His voice trailed off as his expression grew dark and grim. “He's coming back, Breena. You two are destined to be. If I know anything at all, I know that. Believe me, if anyone knows that, it's me. I spent so long wishing it wasn't true, hoping it wasn't true. But now I know it is. Kian and you are decreed by the magic of Feyland. You cannot stay separated for long.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Now, Breena, it's time to calm down and dream of far better things. Sleep well.” He tucked the blanket under my chin. “Dream of the Mortal World for a change. And stop worrying so much.”

After that my nightmares had subsided a bit. The pain of Kian's rejection – played out again night after night – became something I expected, something I could get used to. I was able, at least, to convince myself that the nightmare was nothing magic – that it was, as Logan said, a projection of my own fears, not Kian's thoughts.

But this dream was different. This dream was far darker. I felt a tingling running up and down my spine; I felt my body begin to convulse as my mind was plunged into the madness of the dream. This time I wasn't myself, with Kian, begging him to take me back. No, I was Kian. I was looking through Kian's eyes; I was listening with Kian's ears. Our bodies had commingled; we were one. His blood ran through my veins. For a few moments, I simply luxuriated in this ecstasy. I had missed Kian so much; I had longed for him so badly. I had needed him; I had desired him. I had yearned for him. And now magic had bound us – our bodies, our souls. There was so much I wanted to say to him. There was so much love I wanted to confess.

But before I could try to communicate with Kian, I became distracted by my surroundings. Where was I? This place didn't look like Feyland. I – or Kian – was somewhere else, somewhere where the mountains and plains were a uniform shade of gray. The sky was gray, and the mountains were gray, and the rivers were full of gray water. A cold, forbidding, cruel place.

I looked down at my hands, and gasped at what I saw. The hands were not the porcelain-white, beautiful hands I recognized from so many fervent nights together. They were leathery, weathered with age. I walked to the mirror, and my mouth fell open with shock. I still looked like Kian – but this wasn't the Kian I remembered. This was an old man, with gray hair and gray beard, wrinkles on his forehead and lips thinned with age. Only his eyes, his beautiful, piercing blue eyes, gave me any indication that this was the man I loved.

What had happened to Kian? He was immortal – surely he would never age! It was impossible! But this Kian had grown old – all too old.

I must remember. Kian's voice echoed in my head. Until I die, I must remember her. I cannot forget – although I can no longer see her face...His eyes clouded over with pain. I can no longer remember her name. But I know she was important to me. I cannot remember why or where – I cannot remember anything at all – but I know that I cannot forget her. I know I must have loved her. In the days before I came to this place. In the days before...

Who was I before? I don't know. I will never know. I will never escape. All I know is that I cannot forget...

The voice in my head grew panicked. What can I not forget? What was it? Who was it that I told myself I'd remember? No! No!

Kian began to scream, to shout, to pound on the mirror. I felt his pain, his fury, his fear. Who am I? Who is she? Who am I supposed to remember?

I woke with a start and a scream. No, this dream felt different from the others. It felt real, somehow – real in a way even my nightmares about Kian's rejection did not.

The door flung open as Logan ran in.

“Another nightmare?” He put a glass of water down on my bedside table.

“Yes,” I said, shivering.

“The same one?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “A different one. Really different.” I looked up. “Logan, I think Kian's in danger.”

“Breena, my darling, it was just a dream...”

“Not this one,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “This felt different. Like telepathy, or a premonition, or something – whatever it was, it was magic-related. This wasn't just a dream. Kian was...being held somewhere, trapped, for years and years. Only he wasn't immortal. He was aging, and he was forgetting. Not just about me, but about himself. He couldn't remember who he was, or what was happening to him. And he was scared, Logan, so scared!”

“Hush, Breena,” Logan held me close. “It was just a dream.”

I shook my head. “I don't think so,” I said. “In fact, I'm sure of it. Wherever Kian is, I need to find him.”

“Breena, are you so sure that's a good idea?” Logan looked worried. “Kian said he'd come back when he made a decision – that he needed time alone to think. Are you so sure that he wants to be found?”

I nodded. “He needs me, Logan. He's in danger. I've got this terrible feeling that, wherever he is, he's in trouble, and he needs my help. Whatever is happening between us, Logan, it's my job to keep him safe. As his fiancé, as his friend, as the Queen of Summer. It's my duty to protect him. And I'd never forgive myself if...if....” My eyes welled up with tears. “If my dream was true.”

Logan's face took on a dark, grim expression as he nodded. “I understand,” he said slowly. “And I do trust you. If you say this dream was a premonition, then I'll do whatever it takes to help you find Kian, and keep him safe.” He pressed my hand to his lips. “Because it's the only way to keep you safe. We'll find him, my darling, my Breena.” He gathered me into his arms. “I promise you.”

Chapter 7

Kian

I had walked for many miles beyond the stone gates. The suns of Feyland had risen and set time and again – I could no longer see them in the distance, but only became wary of minor changes in the gray, still light of the place that I supposed signified the difference between night and day. At this rate, I guessed, I had spent four days in the ancient lands beyond the borders of Feyland. Four days that were not days, but rather endless expanses of cold, gray light. I felt more tired than I usually felt on these journeys – my muscles seemed to ache, and my body longed for sleep. Normally I could go days without food or sleep – all fairies prided themselves on their abilities to be hardy when in battle, or on a quest such as mine – but for some reason my body was reacting with sudden sluggishness. Perhaps it was the distance from the Winter Palace, or from the seat of my power.

Or the distance from her, my subconscious told me. I missed her so much – now more than ever. I felt that this ugly, white, pale place would not be quite so cruel if I had her with me. My body still cried out for her; my arms felt empty without her in them. My eyes were thirsty – a thirst that could only be quenched by the sight of her face. My chest needed the small of her back pressed against it. I missed the silky feel of her hair, the smell of pomegranates that perfumed them.

No, Kian, I told myself. You must overcome this. You must be stronger than this. You must forget her. Soon, after all, you will be cured of this love, this disease. Soon you will be free.

But not soon enough, it seemed. As I trudged along the snowy banks of the path, going deeper and deeper into the mountains to search for the White Witch whom I hoped would be an answer to my problems, I felt my soul cleave in two. Part of me wanted to go back before it was too late, rush back through the stone gates and into Feyland, run into Breena's intoxicating arms and lose myself in her kiss, apologize for my actions and beg her to take me back. Did it matter that she wanted Logan, too? Wasn't it enough that she love me, that she want me, that she had chosen me over him? Wasn't that all I wanted, deep down? Wasn't her love – her choice of me for a husband - enough to make me feel like the luckiest fairy in this world or any other?

But I thought of Logan, and felt anger rise hotly to my cheeks. Even, now, I knew, the Wolf was beside her. I could sense it; I had seen it in the mirror. No sooner was the bed cold, was the engagement canceled, than the Wolf had swooped in to take my place. And Breena, it seems, had let him. So much for mourning me. Evidently Breena had been all too relieved by my absence, for it allowed her to follow up on the passion she had been clandestinely nursing all her love. Without me in the way to interfere, Breena and Logan could be together at last. The true star-crossed lovers of Feyland.

And I was nothing but an intrusion, an interference, a barrier to their happiness. Don't you see, Kian, the slippery, snake-like voice within me mocked my pain. Don't you see that she doesn't love you? It's not merely that she's indecisive, not merely that she's scared. She preferred him to you. She has made her choice. You have lost, Fairy King. You have lost and the Wolf has won. Accept your defeat graciously and move on without her. Do not fear that she misses you, or that she still wants you; do not fear that perhaps she is even now at this moment weeping for you to come home. No, she is in the arms of the Wolf, perhaps unclad, perhaps sharing with him that act which you once thought was reserved for the two of you alone, that thing which you thought you would never do with another.

She doesn't miss you. So why miss her? Why not keep on along the path, without stopping, until you find the White Witch, who will save you from this pain? You are not abandoning Breena, Fairy King. Rather, you are setting her free. You are releasing her to her true love. And if the White Witch, and all her fairy magic, can make this transition easier, can smooth the edges of this heartbreak, then so be it. You deserve at least that balm: not to suffer once you've lost the woman who no longer loves you. Perhaps then you will finally desire the beautiful woman in the village who set you on this path and enveloped you in the ferocious force of longing that you saw in her stare. Perhaps you will be able to give yourself over to the nothingness, to the oblivion, of pleasure without love, slake your thirsts, satisfy your hunger, want another. Feel something other than this agony. Feel something – anything...

“Are you quite done?” A soft, feminine voice interrupted my reverie.

“What the...” I whirled around in shock. There, standing before me, was one of the loveliest creatures I had ever seen. With pale ash-white hair and bright blue eyes that were, like her hair, uncommonly white, with shining skin and a long satin dress, this woman radiated power and passion. She could have been young; she could have been ancient. She was ageless – ageless in a way I found unsettling and, strangely, alluring.

“Hello, Kian,” she smiled, flashing white teeth. “I believe you were expecting me.” She looked me up and down, devouring me with her eyes. If the woman in the village had been slightly flirtatious then this gorgeous figure was anything but subtle.

“Are you...the White Witch?” My mouth fell open with shock.

She nodded, grinning. “Surprised?”

“I expected someone....”

“Older? A wrinkled hag?” She chuckled.

“Well, yes.”

“Unlimited magic – and you don't think I'd use any of it to ensure eternal beauty?” She batted her lashes at me, but beneath the damsel image, I felt sure, the White Witch was no bimbo. She exuded confidence, power, and a savage strength that was enticing as it was frightening.

“I must confess, Prince Kian,” she said. “You have aroused much...curiosity in me.” She took a step towards me. “I am told that humans think love is the greatest gift in the world – yet you Fey fear it. I am unfamiliar with both perspectives. It is something utterly foreign to me. Has this epidemic really taken over so much of your kind?”

“No,” I admitted. “Not many. But some. My sister, Shasta, was affected first. She fell for a knight called Rodney, from the Summer Court that was then at war with my kind. The love made her crazy, frenetic. Inspired her to summon the Dark Hordes out of a desperate desire to distract my mother from forbidding her love...”

“Curious...” the witch sneered. “I am told thousands died in that battle. And all because of love. Many kings and princes would give all their treasure for the secret of causing so much death.”

Her callousness unsettled me, but I tried to ignore it. This woman held the secret of my protection, after all.

“And then....my love of Breena...has incapacitated me. It has made me weak. And now that I know she does not return my love, I know it will not hurt her if I remove this disease from my flesh, my heart...”

“Yes, the cure,” said the Witch. “My messengers have alerted me to this; they know what you are after.”

“Then you can cure me?”

“I can cure you...” the Witch said. “If that is what you wish. But sit a while, Kian. Relax. You will be cured. But first answer my questions.” She peered at me. “And you must call me Gail. No formalities here.” It was not a request.

“Gail,” I said.

“You love her very much, then?”

“I...do...” I felt the tears spring at my eyes. “Even now, I must confess, I still love her more than is good for me. But that is why I must be cured, you see. So that I can never suffer again from this affliction. So that I can be the ruler my mother and all of Feyland expects of me.”

“Your mother...yes....” Gail smiled. “Do you miss her very much?” She looked down her nose at me.

I hesitated. How could I explain my complicated feelings about my mother to this total stranger? I cared for my mother – certainly, I honored her as a son ought to honor his mother. I did the duties that a subject ought to do for his Queen. I could never have admitted to loving her – my mother would have been scandalized at the very idea. Now that she was gone, I missed her steely strength, I missed her resolve and her powerful way of commanding a room with the sheer force of her presence. I missed the level-headedness she brought to my life. She had disapproved of my love of Breena, and now I knew why.

“I'm sure she misses you very much,” cooed Gail. “She knows what a brave, strong young man you have become.”

“She knows? How?” My voice grew loud.

“You think my powers are limited to helping those in their first youth?” Gail laughed. “I can see into the Beyond, and communicate with those who are there. I can see into the unknown. And I know your mother is there, waiting for you. Waiting for you to make your choice and become the king she always knew you could be. The choice to come here, to take that risk – she believes is the bravest, and the noblest, thing you have ever done. I can hear her voice now. She is saying...” Gail closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. “My Kian, my son. Leave the tangle of human emotions behind! Leave behind the love that has made you weak, left you vulnerable. Let me set you free! Let another free you from the power Breena casts over you, which is stronger than any spell. I am so proud of you, my boy. My son. My king.”

I was shaking, in shock. Could my mother really be speaking through this strange, beautiful creature?

“Please,” I begged her. “Help me. Cure me. I cannot stand my pain any longer!”

She considered me for a long while, looking me up and down in stony silence.

“Very well, Kian,” she said at last. “I will help you. But first you must do something for me.”

Chapter 8

So, this was it. The moment I had been waiting for. The moment when I at last would be set free, when at last this agony that was splitting my heart in two would subside and leave me, at once, for the first time in so many months, so many years, in peace. Tears of joy sprang to my eyes. The pain would be over. The longing would be over. The need for Breena's mouth on mine, her lips on mine, her hands twined between my own, her warm body and cool cheeks, the smell of her that smelled like cinnamon and jasmine and pomegranate and honeysuckle all at once – of this at last, at last, I would be cured. I wanted to sob with relief. I would be able to look upon her as a caring friend, a brother, nothing more. I would be able to deal with her love for Logan – I would be able, even, to be happy for her, although I couldn't imagine such a thing at this moment. I could be happy for both of them. Breena and I could rule Feyland side by side, as best friends. We wouldn't even need to get married – we could sign a treaty that determined joint control of Feyland. If Breena and Logan had children, and I too produced an heir, we could marry them to one another, and thus produce a joint dynasty one generation later than planned....

The thought made me feel ill, violently ill, and I began to retch, my body convulsing at the thought. Logan and Breena having children? No, I couldn't bear it – couldn't bear the thought of the two of them touching one another, mingling with one another, their limbs sprawled across one another's bodies – no, no amount of magic in the world would ever make me able to withstand such torture! The spell would never work!

“There, there....” Gail began to massage my back, soothing me into silence. “I know it's hard, dear boy. So very, very hard...I've seen it all before, you know. Lots of boys like you who come seeking some kind of answers here, in my lair. Who think that this feeling that's affected them is the end of the world, that they'll never recover from it. But let me tell you something, my dear Prince. They all do. Every single one. With a little bit of my help, the feeling they promise until they're blue in the face will never go away leaves them forever – leaves them happy, sane, and free. No longer in love. You're not the first Fey to fall in love, and you won't be the last. So don't worry. I can help you. I promise you that, if you'll let me, I'll remove every ounce of love from your heart. Do you trust me? You do trust me, don't you?”

Mutely, limply, I nodded. I felt tears spring at my eyes and grew embarrassed at them. I looked down.

“Then are you prepared to do what I ask of you, my boy?”

“Yes,” I said, “Whatever you say, my lady.”

“Gail, please!”

“Gail.”

“In order for the cure to work,” she said, grasping tightly at my hand, “I will need to perform it on Feyland soil. It won't work out here in the ancient realms. I need to tap into the power of Feyland at its core.”

“We have to go back to Feyland?”

She tightened her grip on my wrist. “Yes, absolutely!” she said swiftly. “Not a doubt. You must invite me into Feyland and allow me to do my cure there. That is my condition.

“Invite you?” I asked. “Can't you just come yourself?”

She laughed loudly – a swift, sharp laugh. “Of course I can, silly,” she said. “But I don't like to go to anybody's home unless I'm invited. Awfully rude, isn't it?”

I laughed along with her. “So, that's it? That's your only condition – that we have to go back to Feyland?”

“I'm looking forward to it,” said Gail. “I haven't visited in a while – I'm beginning to miss the place.”

“Very well,” I said. “Let's set off.”

“Just...one more thing,” said Gail. “My helpers – they have to come too.”

“Your helpers?”

Gail motioned towards the trees. There, hiding among the shadows of the branches and leaves, were a few patches of darkness – shadows that seemed to be of nothing at all. At Gail's gesture they began to change shape, dancing and gliding across the ground, forming smiling, laughing faces as they separated and reconfigured themselves over and over again.

“I like to call them my Shadow Puppets,” said Gail. “I understand that's a human phrase.”

“I wouldn't know,” I confessed.

“Anyway, they will have to come too. They help me affect all of my work – including this cure. That is, if they're invited too?” She laughed as she stroked my arm, staring straight into my eyes with her bright blue gaze, which was painfully lovely.

I smiled back at her, relieved. I'd expected the White Witch to be a fearsome, terrifying creature, but Gail was hardly frightening. She was powerful, certainly, but seemed kind – playful rather than grim. And while I'd spent a good deal of time fretting about the price I'd heard she'd extract for her services, all that she asked – that we return to Feyland – seemed like a small price to pay in order to be free of the pains and pangs of love forever. It would require a few days' extra journey, to be sure, but I could last those final few days in the throes of my love – at least, I could if I knew that my pain was almost at an end. Indeed, my love for Breena didn't hurt as much as it normally did. It was as if now that I knew that it would soon be gone, I was able to treasure it, to reflect fondly on our happy memories together without mourning the fact that she now loved another.

“Very well, my boy,” said Gail. “Shall we be off?”

Another two days passed as we walked together on the road back into Feyland. Gail and I spent the walk talking – she asked me question after question about Breena, about our life together, about love.

“I must say,” she confessed. “You're a difficult case. I have no doubt that I will cure you – but all the same – your love is far deeper than that of many who come my way.”

“I only hope it'll work,” I said.

“It'll work,” she replied swiftly. “Nobody is better than I am at destroying love.” The shadow puppets seemed to dance on the path alongside us. “In fact, I would even call it my specialty.”

“Your specialty?”

“Of course, I have so many....” She looked at me with a flirtatious smile.

“I have no doubt of that, my lady,” I said.

“Gail.”

“Gail.”

She smiled and squeezed my hand.

For the first time, I felt a sense of relief. My troubles were almost over. My worries were almost at an end. Soon, I'd stop missing her, stop wanting her, stop needing her, stop wanting to scream out her name every moment that she wasn't there. It would all stop. Of course, such a thing seemed impossible – but I had confidence in Gail. The sense of power she exuded was no illusion – she was one of the most powerful beings I'd ever come across.

“There!” Gail called. “Look, up ahead!”

It was the stone gates of Feyland.

“We're here.”

We stood before the gates, and my heart began to beat faster. So, we were almost at Feyland. Almost time for the cure to go into effect. Almost time for me to forget Breena forever.

But what if you don't want to stop loving her?

“Well?” Gail laughed. “Aren't you going to be a gentleman and take my arm as we cross.” She made a little curtsey.

“Of course.” I took her arm and we strode through the gates together, the shadow puppets following at our feet.

“There.” Gail took a step forward, closing her eyes. “Feyland....” She gave a low, dark laugh. “It feels so good to be back again.” A slow smile spread across her lips. “To feel the power surging back into me.”

She turned to me. Her smile was hard, even cruel. “Now I'll do what you ask,” she said. “Since you have invited me into the Fairy Kingdom, and now my power is the greatest power in the land. I will take all love from this land.”

“All love?” I stuttered. “What do you mean – all love? Just mine, certainly?”

Gail chuckled. “Oh, you poor little fool. You dear, dear fool. You've let me into Feyland. We're playing on my terms, now. And I get to make the rules.”

Chapter 9

Kian

I stood aghast, utterly in shock. “What do you mean?” I stammered as the shadow puppets flitted into the distance, their dark shades passing over the hills of Feyland, vanishing into the night sky. They seemed to laugh with their silent mouths, the light-colored holes in their shadowy forms widening and revealed jagged, grinning teeth. “What plan?”

“What a fool you are, my dear boy.” Gail leaned in and stretched out a single finger, which she used to lightly caress my cheek. “Do you really think that I would give up that easily? No, I've been trying for centuries to gain access to Feyland again, ever since my banishment.

“Your banishment?” I felt panic rise up in my throat. My cheeks were flushed with fear. “What banishment?”

“Never you mind that, my dear boy,” said Gail, grinning wildly. Her teeth too were as jagged and sharp as those of her puppets. Vaguely, confusedly, I wondered why I had never noticed this before. But it was too late now. “All that matters is that the spell is broken. I was formally invited to enter Feyland by one who has the power to do so – one who holds the secret of great ancient magic. And now no power in all the magic kingdoms, nor any under the two twin suns of Feyland, can ever stop me. That is my will.” She threw back her head and laughed – a violent, vicious laugh that sent shivers up and down my spine. “Now, my Kian, King of Feyland, I will keep my promise. Never you mind about that. I will destroy your love for Breena. But as you knew – nothing comes free in Feyland. I have my price. Your desire for peace has its cost. You will cease to love Breena – and so will everybody else. I will squeeze ever last drop of love from Feyland, wringing it dry. Those who care for Breena will begin to hate her. Those who think only of her beauty will find her ugly. Those who find her intelligent will see her stupidity. Those who praise her kindness will see the cruelty within. And not just for Breena, either. Those couples who have polluted Feyland with their talk of that forbidden thing, love, will be ripped asunder. Marriages will fail; lovers with quarrel. And all affection will turn swiftly to hate.”

“No...” I whispered, feeling my heart quicken within my chest. “No!”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Isn't this what you wanted, Kian? To be cured of that sickening affliction, love? Isn't that what you came to me for – so that I could rid you of the symptoms of that festering disease? Surely you do not wish to deny others the same opportunity to free themselves? Surely you do not wish to condemn your countrymen to suffering...”

“But it isn't only suffering!” I found myself protesting. “It's beautiful, too! And good – and exhilarating, and wonderful...”

“And soon it will be gone forever.” Gail batted her eyelashes sweetly at me. “And then you will forget what it felt like to feel your pulse race with love, to feel your breath grow shallow, to feel your heart expand with the greatest joy that you will ever know....”

“No, I don't want that...”

“But you want to be free of your love of Breena?”

I found myself stammering. “I did! I mean, I do! But...”

“But what? Are you afraid?”

“The others – they didn't choose this! Some of them are happy the way they are.”

“The way they are?” Gail sneered at me. “The way – you mean – that their minds turn to jelly because of these ridiculous infatuations? It's sickening – the way when people fall in love they forget about power, they forget about control, they forget about the things that really matter in the world! No, let me tell you something, Kian – they are better off without love. I am doing them a favor.”

“But if you're making them all hate Breena...that's not love, is it?”

“From what you say,” Gail's face contorted into a cold, cruel smile, “it seems that Breena deserves it, don't you think? After all, didn't she lead you on while she was consorting with another man, promising you a love and a happiness she never had any intent of giving you? Is that really what you want to support? Doesn't she deserve a bit of comeuppance for her actions? She's been beloved for so long – she's gotten lazy, used to being adored by those around her. Won't it be good for her to experience the other side of the story?”

“No!” I cried. Fear took hold of me – what had I done? I'd been so desperate to stop my weakness, stop my pain, that I'd given into the greatest  weakness of all: instead of trusting Breena, trusting our love, trusting us, I'd invited this evil sorceress into our midst, a sorceress who evidently had been banished from Feyland once before. What a fool I had been! I didn't even know why Gail had been banished from Feyland – but I knew that whatever she had planned for me and for Breena, it wasn't good.

“Don't you want to see what I'm up to?” Gail smiled as she held up her magic mirror to my face. I gasped as I saw the image revealed to me within. Gail's Shadow Puppets were sneaking into villages, house by house, and casting their darkness upon the inhabitants within. I saw wives beginning to quarrel with their husbands; I saw husbands throwing their wives into the street. I saw anger and recriminations and bitter tears; I saw lovers who had previously been skipping hand in hand down the street or in a glen slapping one another furiously, screaming and wailing with pain. Couples by the hundreds were lining up at the local Town Halls to get divorces; they shouted and made riotous, raucous noise as each raced to be the first to dissolve their union. I saw gossip and rumors spread throughout villages, towns, and provinces – hints of impropriety, jealous accusations of infidelity and dishonesty, gossip that turned to bitterness the way milk curdles.

“What are you doing?” I cried. “Why are you doing this?” My own shame seemed to choke me with the force of my regret. “Why?”

And then the rumors, buzzing through towns, grew louder and more frequent, as hatred seemed to concentrate on one name in particular. Breena.

We trusted her, the rumors began. We thought we could trust her. We thought we could rely on her. But she's been anything but a good leader. All she cares about her love life, her romances, the two men she dangles from her dainty little fingertips. Our national stability is dependent upon whether or not she and Prince Kian are on the outs this week. Is that really what we want in a leader? Someone who is willing to break apart treaties for an infatuation? I heard she's already moved on to Logan – or to another! She's not interested in Kian anymore. And then what is the plan for a United Feyland? Ruined, I tell you, ruined! We'll be back to the War between Summer and Winter in no time without an alliance, mark my words. We cannot trust Breena to run the land. She doesn't understand our ways. And she is ambitious, overly ambitious. She soon won't be satisfied with what she has. She'll want to take our land, our homes, our properties. She'll raise taxes, command us to attend the Summer Court; she'll lay claim to everything we own as if it were hers. We cannot trust her. We cannot rely on her any longer. We must do something – yes, we must do something! Something big – something that shows us that we won't stand for being taken for granted any longer.

Show her that we won't be lied to, and that we won't be betrayed.

We plan revolution. We plan revolt. We plan to fight for freedom.

“No!” I cried, my face growing pale with terror. “No!” Now Gail's plan was all too clear to me. Now that she controlled the hearts and minds of the people of Feyland, for the Shadow Puppets had done their nefarious work, she was unstoppable. She could convince the populace that they hated their beloved Breena, that she was the source of all their problems. And then, once they were well and truly set on deposing her from the throne, she could lead the attempt at revolution – and once the Summer Court had lost their Queen, she could very easily step into Breena's place.

And then Gail would be unstoppable. She would rule Feyland. She would win the love of the people. And there was nothing we could do to make it not so. We were trapped.

She has banished the Winter Prince – that's why he hasn't been seen around lately. Or maybe she murdered him – murdered him in his sleep like the deceitful creature she is! I wouldn't be surprised if she did it in cold blood, after all. Not after what I know of her...

“You must understand, Kian,” Gail was trying to coax me now, to caress me, running her hands up and down my body. “This is the only way to cure you of your love. To show you – and the world – Breena as she really is. In all her true ugliness. Now you can see her with the eyes of truth – that's all I'm doing! That's all the shadow puppets are doing. We are revealing the truth!”

“By spreading lies?”

“By showing the world who this Breena really is.” She smiled. “The old White Witch believed Breena was a good thing for Feyland. But I knew better. I knew that deceitful half-breed would bring only disrepute upon the name of Feyland.”

“The...old...White Witch?”

“Yes,” Gail said blithely. “The one who ruled the Ancient Lands before I came along. Killed her with my bare hands, I did. Easy, too. Far easier than I expected. And now I am the White Witch. And soon, I will be Queen of Summer, too.”

“It'll never work!” I shouted. “It's not possible. You'll never get away with it!”

Gail raised an eyebrow. “Won't I?”

And with that, a crowd of dark shadows rushed me, holding me down, attacking me with invisible teeth and claws.

“Hm....” Gail considered. “We'll have to see about that!”

Chapter 10

Breena

We had to find Kian. From the second that I'd woken up from that terrifying dream in a cold sweat, convinced that Kian was being held by a mysterious woman in a prison somewhere, forgetting about me, forgetting even his own name, his mind clouded over by a spell of deceit, I knew that I had to do something. I had to save him. I began to pore over maps of Feyland, maps of the Winter lands, trying to figure out where Kian might have gone, whom he might have met there.

Kian... The telepathy I always used to use had failed me now. I had gotten so used to being able to contact Kian whenever I wanted, to being able to reach out to him when I was lonely or afraid. But now, I knew, that road was blocked to me. Kian had shut me out, the way I'd always feared he would do, and all my protestations could not reach him. Kian, please, I'm so sorry. I'm so scared. I don't know what to do. I miss you. And I'm afraid for you. I think you might be in danger – just tell me where you are. Tell me how to protect you.

Of course, there was no answer. But his silence galled me, and made me realize how much I missed him. Made me realize how I'd grown accustomed to his low, sweet, melodious voice in my ear, in my head, echoing around in my brain.

Logan took my hand. “We'll find him, Breena,” he whispered. “Don't worry. My priority in life is keeping you safe – and if that means keeping Kian safe as well, then I swear to you, I'll do it with all my heart. I would give my life for you, Breena, you know that. And so I would give my life for him as well, as much as it hurts me to say this. I can't let you be unhappy a moment longer. It kills me, watching you suffer like this. I used to wish Kian out of the way – but now I wish he were here, if only to see you smile again.”

I did smile – albeit a bitter one. I smiled through my tears as I looked into Logan's steadfast, loyal eyes. Even through my misery I couldn't deny that I was happy to have Logan here by my side. I'd missed him – and now that Kian was gone I couldn't deny that our friendship was stronger than ever. Just having Logan near me – to talk to, to confide in, to hold me when the world seemed too wide and too strange for me ever to find a place in it – was good enough for me. I hadn't realized until now just how much his earlier absence had left a hole in my life. Logan brought out a different side of me than Kian did. He didn't bring out the Fairy Queen, the beautiful and unattainable woman that Kian seemed to see in me. Instead he brought out something calmer, quieter, more natural. The human girl I used to be. The girl who laughed and joked; the girl who had fun. The girl who could – for a few seconds of the day – forget the passionate drama of her engagement, forget the wars and battles that characterized her rule as queen – and just be...herself. I felt like me again – for the first time- like the human Breena from Gregory.

But for all this, I knew, I had never been more unhappy. What use was it to get in touch with my human side if my fairy side – the side that loved Kian, that longed for him and missed him – was left bereft? I had to find Kian – and fast – before I risked losing him forever.

But alas, that was not to be. No sooner had Logan and I made preparations to depart for the Winter Court, where we planned to start retracing Kian's steps as best we could from his palace, than we were interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, a young man I recognized from the town. He was out of breath from running; he was covered in blood.

“What's going on?” I said, as he bowed at my feet, pressing his forehead to the floor. “Is it the rations – are there not enough?”

“No, my Queen,” he wheezed. “It's not the rations – got nothing to do with that. There's something else going on. Some strange magic in the air...”

I turned to Logan, my heart sinking as he and I exchanged a glance. Were the Wolves' newfound magic powers – a secret Logan and I were keeping as best we could – at the heart of this?

“Strange magic?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as polite and level as I could. “What do you mean by that, my friend?”

“Couples...” he said. “Hundreds of them. Married couples who have been together for years if not decades; engaged couples, newly in love, who decided to follow yours and Kian's example by announcing their impending nuptials...”

His words cut deep, but the smile remained frozen on my face as I tried to mask the sting of Kian's name, and of the reminder of his absence.

“Yes?” I prodded him. “Go on – what about them?”

“They hate each other!” The man was aghast. “All of them – they started fighting, quarrelling, screaming at one another. All of them – all at once. Couples breaking up, divorcing, turning their backs on one another. Not a single pair is still together. Love is being transformed into hatred”

“Where is this happening?” I traded a glance with Logan. Could this be the result of Wolf magic? He shook his head, an all but imperceptible no. This didn't sound like Wolves. Magic that could overcome love was high magic indeed – not something Wolves new to their powers could easily effect. And what would Wolves want with overturning love, anyway? No, I thought to myself. Something far more sinister was afoot....”

“Where?” The man laughed darkly. “Everywhere, your highness! And that's not the worst of it – not by a long shot.”

“There's more?” I hardly dared to ask.

“There's...talk, your Highness. “Rumors.” He looked nervous.

“What sort of rumors?” He was silent.

“Out with it!” I felt my cheeks turn hot as I grew angry. “What's been going on behind my back?”

“There's been talk, your Highness,” said the man. “About...you”

“Many people here in Feyland are suddenly growing...less supportive of your regime. People who supported you wholeheartedly throughout the fairy wars, who gave you their trust, who believed you could protect them...suddenly, they're turning from you. They're blaming you for things – for the Wars, for the famine, for the mysterious absence of Prince Kian...”

“Blaming her for the famine!” Logan cut in, rage clear on his face. “Why, Breena's been doing everything possible to keep food in the pantry of every fairy! She was the one who came up with the idea of going over to...”

“That's enough, Logan,” I put a hand on his shoulder.

“I'm not saying I agree, your Highness. I'm just telling you what's being whispered in the village. Now, a bit of dissent is to be expected – no ruler worth his salt is loved by everybody. But this – and this sudden change...I don't think it's normal politics, your Highness. I think it's magic – part of the same strange magic that's been affecting everybody lately. But I wanted to warn you – before it's too late. If the force that want to see you deposed grow stronger...well...your Highness, I don't know what will happen. Things are bad out there. Really bad.”

I pursed my lips. “I see,” I said. “Thank you for informing me.” I pressed a gold piece into his hand, but he turned scarlet.

“I couldn't, your Highness,” he said. “I'm just performing my civic duty, is all. And to be quite honest with you, I've got no idea why the magic hasn't affected me, yet. Maybe it will...soon enough....” He looked down. “Well, if I start hating you, I suppose you'll know why...”

“I'll take care of it,” I said, and he bowed and made his exit.

When he had gone I turned to Logan.

“This can't be Wolf doing,” Logan said, gritting his teeth. “Doesn't sound like it at all. This is something else – whatever it is. Something dangerous. And I don't like the sound of it one bit.” He let loose a snarl from between his teeth.

“But what do we do?” I said. “If people hate me, think I'm responsible for all that's wrong in Feyland – how am I supposed to rule over them?”

“For starters,” Logan said, “we'd better see what's going on for ourselves. Before we make any rash decisions.”

“And how do we do that?” I said. “When everyone who sees me apparently thinks I'm some great tyrant?”

Logan grinned at me. “We go in disguise, of course!” he said.

The wheels in my head began turning as I thought of the maid Silvertree, with her long housemaid's dress and the bonnet that covered her hair and, if she looked down, cast shadows over much of her face.

“I have an idea,” I said. “I think I know what to do.”

That afternoon we set off for the village in the guise of ordinary servants, our hats and bonnets shrouding our face from view. I felt a sense of nervous trepidation as we approached. But none of my fears could have been as bad as the reality. Smoke from a nearby house – blazing and roaring – was the first sign something was wrong. The village was all but deserted. Shattered glass from broken windows lined the streets; already three houses had burned down. I heard the screams of women, sobbing, in the wreckage of looted houses.

And there, in the center of town, was gathered a mob of men and women, all of them screaming and shouting, their cries loud, guttural, and ugly.

“What's going on?” I turned to Logan.

He took a step closer as we tried to make out the figures. “I think they're...burning something...” he said. “Some sort of wooden figure...”

I came closer and gasped at what I saw. “Not just something,” I cried, “me, Logan! Look! That effigy is...”

It was. The face was unmistakeable, as was the traditional gown the puppet wore.

They were burning me.

Chapter 11

Kian

I woke up in a small, dark prison. I could see only the tiniest beam of light from a crack in the walls; everything else was cast in shadows. “Hello?” I sprang to my feet, only to realize that I was swaying, and that there was a great and terrible throbbing pain in my head. “Hello, where am I?” I pressed my hands against the cell walls, looking for the door. “Hello?”

Then I remembered. What I had done. What I had brought about, in my quest to forget Breena. What Gail had done. Gail. For a few days I had thought of her as an ally, as a friend, as a potential answer to my problems. I had been seduced by her sly smile, by her ageless beauty – seduced into trusting her. Seduced into letting myself think that I wanted to be rid of my love for Breena. But instead I had seen the truth. I had let a wicked witch loose upon Feyland – a witch determined to destroy the woman I loved, and take her place upon the throne.

For Breena was the woman I loved. I knew that now, more surely than ever. In a sense, I supposed, bitterly, Gail had cured me of my pain. For now I no longer cared whether Breena had ever had feelings for Logan, or whether she was with him now. I cared only that she was safe. I cursed myself for my stupidity, for my cowardice. How had I let this happen? Had I been so afraid, so unable to face up to my own emotions, that I had put Breena and the rest of Feyland in great danger, all because I couldn't deal with my own pain? Shame flooded through me. I had let this happen. I was responsible for this. This was all my own fault. Wave after wave of self-loathing crested over me like surf in a storm. How could you be so foolish, Kian? Right now, I didn't care about Logan; I didn't care about our fight. All I wanted to do was to press Breena in my arms and never let go; all I wanted was to give myself over to the love I was surer than ever I felt for her. I needed her near me. I needed her now. And instead, I knew, I had put her in mortal danger.

“Did you hear?” A voice was laughing on the other side of the wall.

“Help!” I cried, banging on the wall. “Help!”

But the voice either could not or did not want to listen. Instead, he continued gossiping. “We had a riot this morning,” he said. “We got up an old puppet of the Fairy Queen and burned it – right in the town square! That'll show her to get too big for her britches, to off the Fairy King, to try to control Feyland on her own! And I heard that the Queen herself showed up to see it! And what a nasty shock we gave her, eh? Don't think she'll be bothering us again!”

My stomach plummeted as his companion laughed loudly, echoing his words. What did they mean a nasty shock? From the sound of the man's voice, it didn't sound good. Had they hurt my beloved Breena, or even...? No, I couldn't think that. I had to keep on believing that if she were in serious physical danger I would know. Even though I had shut down our telepathic connection in my rage, even though I had tried to cut myself off from her – a choice I now bitterly recriminated myself wit! - I had to keep on believing that if she were dead, I would know, for my own heart too would stop beating, and immortality itself would not be enough to keep me from joining her in that mysterious land we call the life beyond life.

No, I told myself. I had to get out of this prison, somehow, and go back to Breena, and find her before it was too late. I had to offer myself to her body and soul, fall upon her mercy and beg her forgiveness, hoping that my foolish actions hadn't destroyed the connection between us forever. I knew what I had to do. I knew that I didn't deserve forgiveness – not after having left her like that, alone and scared and with nobody to turn too – but I knew as well that I loved her too much not to try. If she had chosen Logan – if his loyalty had won her over after my departure had disappointed her – then I would accept it with dignity, with care, with as much understanding as I could muster.

Just as, I reminded myself, he did the same for you, when it was you that she loved.

But that pain, the pain of giving up my love for Breena and standing aside for Logan, if he was the one she picked – that pain was worth it, if it meant sparing all of us the pain of losing her forever. I loved her enough – too much – enough to break open my heart and soul, to spend the rest of eternity missing her, just to see her smile one last time.

I had to escape. I turned to the chink in the wall, shaking with anguish, fear, and pain. I tried to gather my thoughts, my energy, all my magic. But nothing came from my fingertips. I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight as I tried to harness my energy, my need, my desire for her. Breena, I whispered with lips that tasted of tears. Breena, I miss you. I love you. Come back to me.

A few blue sparks emerged from my fingers. Then, all at once, a roaring blue flame burst forth, breaking down the wall, shattering into pieces. My eyes adjusted swiftly to the novelty of the day's bright light. I was free. And now I had to run. Before I knew what I was doing I had begun to tear violently through the streets of the village, not even stopping to take stop of my surroundings, running faster and faster until I'd left the village itself far behind me and wandered into the depths of the emerald-green forest, rich with the scent of pine, that surrounded it. My heart began to beat faster and faster as I quickened my pace, allowing my wings to expand until I was flying, gliding above the earth. I didn't know if Gail's spies were watching, so I made sure to fly low above the tree-tops, doing my best to hide among the rich foliage.

I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath and regather my thoughts. I was...somewhere familiar. The forest that led to the Winter Kingdom. About a half day from the Summer Court – but that was assuming I didn't need to face down Gail or one of those Shadow Puppets – let along angry villagers, grown bloodthirsty with rage as a result of Gail's insidious tricks.

And then I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye. A shadow that moved just a tad too swiftly. A shadow of a tree that began to morph and change, crying out without sound as other shadows rushed to join it.

I felt their tug against my wings, pulling me to the earth, invisible nets that seemed to catch at me and whip at me. I groaned with pain as one wrapped an invisible chain around my ankle, pulling it tight. A purple bruise appeared as I tried to kick the shadows away.

“Unhand me!” I cried, my voice echoing through the forest. “I am the Fairy King, Kian of Winter, Emperor of Feyland, and I command you unhand me at once.”

I heard a low hissing sound in my ear. “Never,” it whispered. “You are second to our Mistress, to the great Gail, the White Witch. You have no power over us. We serve only the White Witch!”

“Unhand him!” A male voice in the distance rang clear as a bell. “Unhand the King!”

I looked up with shock as green sparks shot forth from the fingertips of a beautiful youth, his shirtless chest glinting with sweaty strength in the morning light.

“What the...” This was no Winter Fairy, nor no Summer Fairy either. Neither of us had command of green magic.

But his second shot hit home, and a bolt of green lighting split apart one of the shadows, sending it careening into a million pieces.

A pixie? I wondered. But no, it couldn't be – he didn't have the pointed ears and sharp chin of the pixies, nor the small, lithe physique. This man was broad, with powerful shoulders and a strong, strapping look about him. Almost like...

“It cannot be!” I cried, as the man transformed into a Wolf before my eyes, his body morphing into a proud lupine body in a matter of seconds. I looked up in shock. “But...you're a Wolf! Wolves don't have magic.”

“We do now!” Another Wolf appeared, this time a half-naked girl with long dark hair. “And we're prepared to use it.”

And with that, a whole pack of them had appeared, looks of utter glee on their faces as they began to throw energy bolts of magic at the mysterious shadow figures, attacking them again and again.

“Look!” one of them called, a note of surprise in his voice as a rope of emerald fire appeared from his fingertips. It twisted in the air before thudding to the ground, holding the shadow puppets tight. “Try it!”

Soon, all the Wolves had begun to make ropes of magic, binding the puppets, who struggled wildly, their form contorting but never quite breaking the bond.

“I don't understand,” I went over to one of the Wolves, who had reverted to his human form. “Are you some special kind of Wolf I have never met before?”

“I am a Wolf like any other,” he said, with a tone that bordered on proud. “And like any other Wolf, I lived in denial of my birthright for far too long. But now, I rejoice to say that magic has returned to me, as it has returned to all the Wolves. The rumor is that the Wolfstone has been activated – that our magic is back for good. That...”

But his voice trailed off as consternation spread across his face, along with a look of fear. The shadow puppets were getting stronger, straining harder and harder against the ropes that bound them, getting bigger and bigger.

“It's not going to hold them!” cried the other Wolf, but the warning came too late.

The Shadow Puppets had broken loose. And they were heading straight for me...

Chapter 12

It was all over in the blink of an eye. My powers were useless against the powers of the Shadow Puppets. The Wolves howled and roared, trying in vain to make emerald-colored sparks shoot out from their fingertips once again, but ultimately they could do nothing. The shadows ran circles around us, knocking the breath out of our lungs, squeezing our bodies tightly until we choked for air, kneading their dark contours around us until our hands were bound tight and I was gasping, choking, spluttering, trying to inhale one final breath before everything went black...

I awoke in another cell. This one was sturdier than the last – we were underground, I could tell that much from the dank and moldy smell, and no lights shone through any cracks in the walls. I struggled to free my hands from the cuffs I had on, but it was all in vain. There was no hope. There was no freedom. There was only Gail, sitting before me on a golden throne, a disturbing glint in her eye and a cruel smile upon her lips.

“So,” she said, when my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. “You thought you could escape from me – is that it?” She smiled darkly. “Silly boy – you ought to have followed orders. You ought to have done as I said. Instead you grew proud, grew risky. But now you will have to face the consequences of your actions.”

I screamed as black flames seemed to envelop my face, burning with an acid darkness I had never experienced before.

“That's what you get for trying to escape,” Gail sneered. “And that's only the beginning. You haven't even begun to experience the punishments I've dreamed up for you. Not yet.” She laughed, the sound maniacal and terrifying as it echoed through the cavernous chamber, making me shudder as it boomed from the ceiling. “Your magic has only led you into ruin, Fairy King. The magic you have exhibited has only led your land into more despair, more warfare, more hunger, more famine. And now that the Wolves have magic, what use have we for yours? What need do we have for Fey magic at all?” Her laugh grew louder, longer and crueller as she raised her hands. “I'll tell you what I think, Fairy King. I think we should see what happens if you have to do without it for a little while, don't you?”

She pulled back her hands, as if tugging on an invisible rope. Immediately I felt a strange, painful sucking sensation all around my body, as if the air in my lungs were being inhaled by another, as if all of the power and the strength in my body were being forcibly extracted from it. I cried aloud in agony as my body began to shudder in the wake of this mysterious spell.

“Stop!” I cried. “Stop it! By order of the Fairy King!”

“No,” she said calmly. “You stop, Kian. I make the orders now.”

I fell to the floor with a sharp thud, my arms springing loose from the shadow puppets' handcuffs. Immediately I put up my fingers, attempting to blast Gail with a bolt of blue flame. But nothing appeared from my finger-tips. I tried again, concentrating my magic, trying to focus every ounce of my being on destroying her

But nothing happened. I remained still and useless before her as she began to chuckle.

“That won't do you much good now,” she sneered. “You haven't got any magic any longer, Fairy King. I've taken it.” She snapped, and blue fire appeared in the air above her hands, taunting me with its sparkle. “Now you're no better than an ordinary human, Fairy King. Than one of the mortals you used to mock. Now Logan has the power of magic – and you are simply...average. Mortal. Human. With nothing special about you. Soon you'll begin to age, and grow old, and your hair will turn grey, and your many hundreds of years of life will doubtless catch up with you before long...” She tossed her hair.

“Fitting, isn't it? That Breena should end up with a magical Immortal after all – and that this immortal should be Logan, rather than you. How much time did you think about Logan as no threat at all – because he had no magic? Because he was not a Fey? How many times did you mentally dismiss him as inferior to you because he did not make fire with his fingers? And now...the roles are reversed. But perhaps it's what Breena would have wanted...”

She raised her magic mirror again, placing it in front of my eyes. My hands were bound once more by the Shadow-Puppets; they held my face so that I could not look away from the destruction before me.

And then I saw it in the mirror – the thing that hurt me most. The thing that made my heart split in two. Logan and Breena, in bed together, caressing one another, naked to the waist, tangled in the sheets I recognized all too well. Looking at one another with looks of utter love in their eyes – overwhelmed by their own joy – their gaze sparkling with anticipation and desire. I saw the ring on her finger – the ring she had worn while engaged to Logan when she was under the spell of the toad-like Wort, who had made her fall in love with him.

And yet knowing that it was a spell didn't make it any easier. The sight of Logan and Breena, kissing and caressing one another, was enough to set my mind, heart, and soul on fire. I could not stand the agony. Fire burned within my veins, seeping through my arteries, setting my skin aflame in invisible conflagration. I missed her; I needed her. And yet, as I saw her, naked and so desirable, wrapped in Logan's arms, crying out his name over and over again in rapturous ecstasies as he kneaded his fingers up and down her lithe, muscular body, I felt myself torn – half of me lost in that same rapt longing, half of me suffering from the most egregious of despair.

“No!” I cried, trying to shut my eyes, but the Shadow Puppets held them open, merciless in their stillness.

The scene began to change before me. Instead of seeing Logan and Breena as they were when they were engaged, under a spell, I saw them as they must have been while growing up. Breena was wearing human clothes – those blue trousers called jeans, cut off at the knee, and a tight blue shirt that emphasized her shapely form. Logan too was dressed in human garb, and the two of them were walking in the woods, laughing and joking. She looked so happy, then, so healthy, with that starry pink glow in her cheeks and the smile that seemed so genuine, so real, upon her lips. This was the Breena I loved, the Breena I most wanted to see: a happy Breena, her happiness unadulterated by the stress of living in the Fairy World. She and Logan were talking about such simple things – gossip from their old high school, talk about Clariss, who was bullying Breena after Biology class. They were mock-pushing and joke-shoving one another, playing like puppies, their energy tireless and boundless. And I found my heart aching more in the witnessing of it than it did watching the two of them kissing in bed. It was one thing to know that Breena desired Logan physically, or that he could give her pleasure. But to see them together like this made one thing painfully – agonizingly certain.

Logan understood her. They had shared so much, gone through so many struggles together that they were like one person, one single being. Their souls fused as one in a way even magic could not bind me to her. I would never understand Breena's human side. I would never understand her – as much as I loved her our love lacked a grounding in the small things, the intimate pleasures that lovers know about one another. I barely knew what her favorite human book was, let alone her opinions on mortal television shows, or whether or not she followed politics back in Gregory – things that no doubt Logan could rattle off at a moment's notice. He knew every part of her; he cared for her.

Oh, Breena, I whispered to myself. I promise, if I ever get you back, I'll never let you go again. I'll care for you – I'll do my best to understand you. To learn more about you. To at last get to the point where you and I truly get each other, in mind as well as in body. I want to know what books you like, what food you eat, what mattered to you in the mortal world I still don't fully understand. I'll do whatever it takes – just to be close to you again.

“Seen enough yet?” Gail shoved the mirror into my face. “Or do you want to torment yourself more?”

I was beaten. The pain was too great. I couldn't look a second longer into that terrible mirror, which reflected back to me my own fears, my own insecurities, which seemed to dig deep into my very soul. “No more,” I whispered. “Please, no more...”

“I promised I'd end the pain, didn't I?” Gail took a step toward me. “And I will. I do keep my promises – that much, at least, I can assure you. I can end all of this pain, right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You won't love her any longer...” Gail began to stroke my cheeks. “I will fulfil my bargain with you.”

“No,” I cried. “I don't want that – not any longer. I'd rather die, loving her, than live knowing I betrayed her, that I gave up on us.”

“Too late,” Gail snapped. “You gave up on her the moment you invited me into Feyland.” She grabbed hold of my head. “Now drink!”

I coughed; I spluttered, but there was nothing I could do. The sweet liquid forced its way down my throat, turning bitter and black in my throat as she tipped the small glass vial onto my lips. I tried to spit it out but the liquid kept on coming, tumbling down my throat, making me retch.

And then it was gone, leaving nothing but a burning sensation on my tongue.

And a curious, newfound coldness in my heart.

Chapter 13

Breena

I gasped as I saw it burn. The effigy, brighter and brighter, the heat stinging my face as I watched the puppet, life-size, looking so eerily like me, collapse into cinders. The arms and legs were falling off; straw was burning all around the base of the doll. And my own face – terribly, horribly life-like, was staring back at me as the eyes melted into thick, glutinous goo.

“Logan,” I whispered in horror, taking his hand. “Logan, let's get out of here, quick!”

We ran, covering our faces with our bonnets and hats, trying to stay into the shadows. My heart was beating quickly, wildly; terror had taken hold of me. How could this be? Only a few days ago, I was a beloved Queen, a favorite of the Summer and Winter fairies alike. Everyone respected me; everyone cared for me. Kian and I had been lauded like heroes ever since we'd returned home from the final battles against the Dark Hordes. How could we not be? We'd ended the wars that had divided Feyland; we'd driven off the Dark Hordes that had threatened to send Feyland into a tailspin of destruction; we'd done all that was asked of us and more. But now some evil power had turned our people against me – now they looked at me with hatred, with suspicion, with fear. What was happening?

“Something's wrong,” Logan said, looking around. “It's not just about you – look at this place. Crime, theft, burglary, break-ins, violence, everywhere! Window panes are smashed; there are bodies lining the streets. This isn't ordinary dissent – the man was right. Something magical is happening here...”

“Is it?” I felt my eyes grow wet with tears. “Or have they just come to their senses....” I felt my voice tremble and grow weak. “Think about it, Logan; just think about it! I'm a nobody. I was a sixteen-year-old girl who came from the middle of nowhere to run this world. And now that Kian's gone, people are just seeing me as I really am.” The tears spilled down my cheeks. “A failure. A little girl who can't handle ruling a nation...”

Logan held me tight. “Don't be like that, Breena,” he whispered. “You know the truth – deep down within yourself. You don't need Kian; you don't need anybody – to tell you that you're strong enough for this, that you can do this, that you're the best leader Feyland's had for centuries. You just need to believe that for yourself, okay?” He pressed his lips against my forehead. His lips lingered there; I let myself remain in his arms, pressing my body against his reassuring warmth. Then, his face contorted into a frown, and he stepped away abruptly.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's get back on our horses and get out of here.” He mounted his steed with stunning alacrity; I got on my horse, too, with a heavy heart. I wasn't sure what to think – how to feel. All I knew was that I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach – a sinking surety that something was wrong, terribly wrong. Where is Kian? Why isn't he here? We need to deal with this together.

My thoughts were interrupted by the light, soft sound of sobbing.

“What's that?” I pulled on my reins and my horse came to a stop. “Logan, did you hear that?”
The crying grew louder, and I turned to see a little girl, hardly more than six years old, sobbing in a corner, hiding from the noise of the mob and the bonfire.

“Help me!” she called, her eyes wide with fear. “My mother's gone, my father's gone...they're all fighting...they're all burning. Everything is burned-up, broken, gone...help me!”

“We've got to get back, Breena,” Logan shook his head. “Something's wrong here – and it's too dangerous for us to stay out of the palace, especially with sentiments against you being what they are. We've got to get on the move.”

“We've got to help her!” I cried back. I dismounted my horse and stretched out my hand to the girl.

“I can take you somewhere safe,” I said to her, keeping my voice as low and gentle as I could. “But you have to trust me, okay?”

“Where's Daddy?” The girl started to shake and shiver. “Do you know where Daddy's gone?”

“I don't, I'm sorry,” I shook my head. “But listen, it's really important! We have to get out of here – we're not safe here.” Her hands trembled as I held my own out; at last she put her little fist in mind and ran towards me, clutching my body in her arms.

“Help me, please!” she cried.

“Hurry!” I lifted her up and put her on my pacing steed. “Let's go!”

“Hurry!” echoed Logan, kicking the sides of his horse, “we need to get out of here, and fast! It isn't safe here.”

But his words came too late. Just as we had gotten onto our horses, kicking their sides to spur them on homewards towards the palace, I heard a sharp, angry cry ring out, echoing across the village. “It's her!” The voice was savage with fury and rage. “It's her, Breena, the Fairy Queen! Get her!” Laughter – raucous and cruel – roared up around us; Logan and I exchanged quick, panicked glances as we saw one of the villagers, a tall stocky man in his mid-forties, with bulging muscles, a sword in hand, standing there, staring straight at us.

“You think you're so powerful, don't you?” His snarl was full of bitter hatred. “You think that you are the greatest Queen Feyland's ever had, don't you? But you're wrong, dear girl. So very wrong. We know the truth about you, now. We know that you infiltrated this great land from your mortal world – the filthy mortal world where you belong! We know that you seduced the King Kian into loving you, when all the while you were making him into nothing more than a cuckold, playing him with that filthy, foul, Wolf-Beast there!” He pointed at Logan, spitting on the earth. “It's true, isn't it? That you've been carrying on with the Wolf Prince behind Kian's back? We here in Feyland have long memories – we remember the engagement between the Wolf Prince and the Fairy Queen! We remember! You can't fool us. Tell me it was a spell, tell us all that it was an evil enchantment, but I know the truth. Once Kian came home and found out what you'd been up to behind his back, once he saw the real you and figured out what a sick, disgusting little wench you were, you pretended that you'd been under a spell – because that was the only way you'd ever escape his righteous wrath!”

“That's a lie!” Logan's face contorted with anger. “That's a wicked lie and you know it.”

I shook my head. “No...” I whispered. “He believes it...look!”

A strange apparition had appeared upon the villager's furious, hate-filled face. As if a shadow were flitting over it – yet a shadow that remained upon his face, growing darker than ink, morphing in shape, so that it almost looked as if a second face, a cruel skull's face, were imposed in shadow on his form.

“What's that?” Logan muttered to me under his breath. “What's on his face?”

“I don't know?” I whispered back through clenched teeth. “But I've got a feeling that whatever this is, it's got something to do with this strange magic that's been going on in the village. I don't trust it....”

“You will suffer, wench!” the villager cried. “We'll get a new Queen. A Queen who is loyal, strong, and true. A Queen who will not murder her lovers in their sleep!”

“Aye!” Another villager had appeared – this one with many more in tow. He stood at the front of the mob, a stone in hand. “A Queen we can trust! A Queen we can believe in! A Queen that is more than a mere mongrel half-breed human who consorts with animals of her kind.” He raised his arm, his stone clearly in hand, grinning wildly as he made to throw.

The girl in my lap hid her face in my chest as she whimpered, terrified.

“Stop!” I cried. “If you hit me, you'll hurt her! She's just a child...”

But that didn't stop him. A sharp rock came whizzing straight at me, missing the child by a hair and skinning my shoulder. I couldn't help but cry out in pain. But that, it seemed, was the spark that they needed – the impetus for their violence. Instantly a whole host of stones came flying through the air, aimed directly at me. One struck the child; she screamed in pain, but in their anger and rage her cries did not stop them.

“Go!” cried Logan. “Now – hurry!”

I kicked my steed, and we began racing through the village, into the woods, the horse spurred on in terror by the pain of the hailstorm of rocks that kept shuttling towards us, one after the other, faster and faster until my throat was tight and my heart was beating faster than a hummingbirds.

“Help!” the girl cried as we raced through the emerald forests, making our way as swiftly as we could back to the Summer Palace.

“The mob is coming!” Logan began to cough with exhaustion. “The palace won't be safe anymore – not with so many fairies turned against you like this. And if the villagers have been turned, who's to say that your guards haven't been, too? We can't trust them, Breena. We can't trust anyone!”

The girl was shaking, shivering. “Where are we going?” she sobbed. “Help me, please!”

I had to make a decision – split-second. My heartbeat quickened; my throat was dry. Terror soaked through me like sweat.

“Into the woods,” I said. “Away from everyone or anything. We don't know who we can trust. Nowhere is safe...”

We ran – our horses galloping through the woods, our breath shallow with exhaustion. It was only when we made it to a clearing and caught our breath, able at last to stop, that Logan and I were able to look at one another, fear mounting in our faces.

“We should wait here,” said Logan.

“But the girl...” I looked down, only to gasp in shock. The girl had vanished into thin air.

Chapter 14

“What was that?” I clapped a hand to my mouth in surprise. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“The girl...” I looked up in confusion. “Logan – she's gone.”

Logan looked worried. “Did she fall?”

“No – she can't have done – I was holding her – she was right there beside me, right there...but then she just...vanished.”

Logan looked grave as he stroked his chin, looking around for any sign of her. “If this is what I think it is,” he said, “then whatever enemy we're up against is very powerful indeed. And we're all in a lot of danger.”

“What do you mean?”

“That child slowed us down,” he said. “Caused us to stop to help her – giving the villagers enough time to figure out we were there and try to chase us down. Either that was an extraordinarily bad piece of timing on our part, or somebody was trying to prey on our weaknesses, to slow us down intentionally, to trick us...”

“Trick us?” My mouth fell open. “You don't mean...”

“I'm afraid I do mean, Breena,” said Logan, frowning. “I don't think that girl was a real girl at all. I think she was an illusion, an apparition, sent to confuse us, to slow us down.” He smiled bitterly. “Not that it made much difference to the villagers – they didn't even seem to care that she might have gotten caught in the crossfire. Whatever spell is affecting them is making them completely callous to innocent life. All they care about now is their hatred, their rage, slaking their thirst for blood and revenge. And if it's true that whoever is behind this spell is powerful enough to create an apparition so convincing that we can touch her, hold her....this isn't small fry magic, Breena, I know that much.”

I shivered. “Could it be pixies again?”

“Not pixies,” Logan said. “Not wolves.”

“Clariss?”

“I doubt it. No, this isn't Clariss' doing. It's not her style. Clariss needs to be front and center – if she were tormenting us, she'd want us to know that it was her doing the tormenting. She wouldn't want to stay in the shadows like this; she'd come out to gloat by now. No, this is something different. Something bigger, more powerful. If I didn't know better, I'd almost guess that....” He fell silent. “No, it can't be. No...”

“What?”

“There are rumors,” Logan said slowly. “Just rumors, nothing more. But maybe by now I should start getting used to the fact that rumors, like fairy tales, can be real. The only creatures able to create apparitions like that – true, solid apparitions – aren't fairies. They're not even from Feyland. They're from the Outer Realms, the ancient lands on the border of Feyland, where the White Witch rules over the mountaintops.”

“The White Witch?”

“One of the most powerful beings of all time. But she can't be in Feyland – it's impossible!”

“Why?”

“She hasn't been seen in Feyland in centuries. Some say that she was banished – that the White Witch was forbidden from ever entering Feyland, bound by some of the strongest Fey magic. She is unable to enter Feyland uninvited – and the only person who could invite her in is someone who holds all of Feyland's power...”

“Unless...” The thought came unbidden into my mind, seizing hold of my brain, choking my thoughts.

“Unless what?” Logan turned to me.

“Think about it, Logan,” my voice began to tremble. “Who has access to Feyland's power, to the truly great magic?”

“Only its rulers,” Logan said. “You, your father, and...” He stopped short. “Oh,” he said, his voice growing hollow. “You mean...”

“He could be in danger, Logan!” I felt the tears come to my eyes. “That dream I had – it felt real, so real. I think he's in trouble, Logan – I just know he is! And if this White Witch got him in her clutches somehow, that could be how she got into Feyland! If she made him let her into Feyland...”

“Impossible,” Logan said. He put an arm around me, rubbing my back, releasing the tension from my spine. “That's not how invitations work. Nobody can be forced to use their magic like that – the only way the Witch could have gotten in is if Kian invited her in, willingly. So I wouldn't worry if I were you. Whatever magic is happening, I'm sure Kian has nothing to do with it.” He leaned and embraced me, pressing me against his body. I inhaled the musky, delicious scent of him, the intoxicating woodland scent that reminded me of our childhood days, allowing myself to linger in his arms, to savor the slow comforting power of his touch, the way it seemed to take away my pain, even for a little while. I closed my eyes as he tightened his grip on me, savoring our closeness. Logan always had a way of quieting my troubles, of making my pain less sharp, of calming my heart. I breathed out slowly, feeling my body press against his as I exhaled. I leaned my head against his neck, the bristles from his stubble tickling my chin.

“You're so soft...” his voice was low, urgent, pained. “You have no idea just how soft your skin is.” He let his fingers trace upwards along my palm. It felt so good to have him there, so close, so near. His body comforting me, fitting and forming to mine, the way it always did. And then, all at once, he stopped, standing up abruptly and walking away. “I'm sorry, Breena. I'm so, so, sorry. But I can't.” He swallowed hard. “Not anymore.”

He turned to me, and I saw upon Logan's face a look of utter agony, of pain that I'd never seen before. His eyes were dark with sadness, black with a sense of loss I'd never seen in them before. His skin had gone pale and sallow; he looked half-shocked, utterly exhausted. And his agony, the pain he suffered, was palpable; I felt it too, without even knowing what it was.

“What is it?” I whispered, my voice shaking with the effort to remain calm. “Logan, what's going on?”

He shook his head with a slow, deliberate gesture. “I'm sorry, Breena,” he said, his voice remaining so calm that it was almost a deadpan, as if all his effort were going into stopping his voice from devolving into sobs. “I can't do this anymore,” he said. “I need to be selfish, now – a little selfish. I want so badly to be there for you, to comfort you, to wrap my arms around you when you need help, when you need a friend, to be there for you every moment of every day, to give everything to you. But I can't break my heart like this anymore, Breena. I can't stand this suffering. As much as I wish I could be strong for you – be strong like you, I cannot. I want to be your noble knight, the warrior by your side, the chivalrous knight who, without any hope of being loved in return by the woman he adores, his lady love, nevertheless spends his life serving her. But I can't do that anymore, Breena.”

“Maybe, deep down, I hoped that once Kian was gone, if I could only just show you that I'd never hurt you, if I could only just convince you that I'd never treat you badly, then, maybe, you'd see that we were meant to be together, you and I. Maybe you'd realize that our hearts should beat as one. But I've done all that. I've been here by your side, shown you that I'll stay even when Kian goes, that you can rely on me even when you can't rely on him. But he's still the one you love, Breena. He's the one you'll love for the rest of eternity. And now I see, for the first time, clearly, that there was never any chance for me.”

“Logan....I....” I couldn't meet his eyes. I looked down in shame, my cheeks flushing hot. I knew that his words were true, but I could not bring myself to admit just how true they were. “I'm so sorry, Logan....”

“You never led me on,” he said. “You've been honest with me from the start. But these moments, these moments where I'm touching you, feeling your beautiful, soft skin against mine, feeling your pulsing heartbeat against mine, feeling you, needing you, wanting you...these are moments where I delude myself into thinking that the desire you feel for me – the desire I cannot deny we both feel – is more than a pale shadow of what you feel for Kian. And I can't be celibate forever, being your Knight, waiting on you, hoping on you, wanting you. I need to move on, Breena. I need to find a woman who loves me the way I love you, whom maybe, one day, I can love as I loved you.” He swallowed back his tears. “And that means we need to be careful, Breena. I need to pull back from you, emotionally. I need my space for a while. We need to be friendly – but maybe a little distant, for a while. Until I'm over you. Until we can be best friends again.”

“But we will be best friends again, right?” My lips trembled. I couldn't bear to think of Logan slipping away – of losing him, too, after I'd lost Kian...

“I think we will,” said Logan. “Soon. And for as long as this emergency goes on, I'll protect you – of course I will. I will keep you safe. But we can't be....this close. This physical. The way we are now. Not without me feeling the pain of your not loving me so keenly – every day, every moment. I need to make room for my own heart.”

I couldn't deny that his words had struck a blow. But nor could I deny, either, that he was right. I knew, deep down, that our friendship had become toxic – tempting both of us with desires we could never act upon, dragging others into this emotional mess, hurting Kian, hurting Rose – whose unrequited love for Logan was a secret from nobody except Logan himself, and from poor Alistair, who remained oblivious to the torch she carried, hopelessly, for the Lone Wolf. No, if we got through this alive, we had to change. We had to act fairly, rightly – not only by each other, but by the others in our lives. I had to commit to Kian, once and for all, to stop thinking of Logan as a potential backup, as the road not taken, as the one who had gotten away. And Logan had to commit to moving on, to finding another girl, to being open to the possibility of falling for her. And I had to curb the stupid, irrational, petty jealousy at the thought of the girl that Logan might eventually love.

“I guess we've got a lot of growing up to do, huh?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Logan said. He did not look at me. “I guess so.” He sighed. “By the suns of Feyland, Breena, this is harder than any battle I've ever fought.” He did not take my hand, but I know we both ached for each other's touch.

“For me, too,” I said, looking away, hiding my tears. “But I understand.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

“Good?”

“Good.”

That night we slept on the ground, at a safe and lonely distance from one another. I did not sleep. I kept my eyes on the stars, shivering with the cold, but knowing that Logan's arms would never warm me again.

And praying that Kian's would.

Chapter 15

I spent the night lying awake, staring at the stars, trying to make sense of my emotional state. So much had happened in such a short space of time. A few weeks ago I was happy; I was secure. Everything was fine. I was in love with my fiancé; we had rescued Feyland; we had united Winter and Summer and returned the twin suns to the sky. We had been ready to settle down after a lifetime's worth of misadventures and struggles; we had suffered so much and at last we were ready to claim the happiness, the rest, that had been eluding us for so long. But what went wrong? I tried to put the pieces together in my head. Had I screwed up – had it been simply that my indecisiveness had transformed my life from a paradise into torment in a matter of days? I'd lost Kian; he had gone I knew not where, to some mysterious land, into dangers that left me reeling with nightmares, to decide whether or not our relationship was worth salvaging from the ashes of his mistrust. I'd lost my crown, my people, the love of all those whom I had given up my future in the mortal world to rule. I'd given up the only home I'd ever known, the only place I'd ever belonged, all my dreams and plans and hopes for the future that I'd grown up with ever since I was a little girl, given up everything familiar to me in order to venture into this brave new world of magic and adventure, to bring peace to this bitterly torn land, rent asunder by strife. I'd given up my dream of becoming a conservation specialist, working in the national parks of the American West. I'd given up so much for Feyland – and now Feyland had given up on me. They no longer wanted me; they no longer loved me. Not just my rule was in jeopardy, if the mob violence was anything to go by; these people wanted my head. I thought of Marie Antoinette, whom I'd read about in AP European History back in high school. The French Queen who, deposed by the people, was decapitated by guillotine in the public square. Would that be my fate, too, if I couldn't win the love of the people back? Would this be how I was remembered – as a capricious, over-ambitious tyrant, who had let her heart run away with her, and who had sacrificed her people in order to focus on her romantic intrigues? That's certainly what they all thought.

I tried to tell myself that it was just a spell, just a lie, just a vision – that the people who hated me were only doing so because the enchantment had hexed their minds. But deep down, my fears turned my own mind against me. What if their hatred was justified? What if I deserved the chaos that was happening to me; what if I deserved the way that life seemed to be falling down around my ears?

Normally, I would have gone to Logan, asked him for help, talked to him about my feelings. I would have showed him my vulnerabilities – weaknesses I didn't feel comfortable sharing with anyone, not even Kian. I would have confessed to him how unsure I was about everything. But as I watched him sleep, nestled across the glen from me, I knew that this option was closed to me now. For both our sakes, for both our mental health, I had to cut off this reliance on him – at least for now. Until he could move on; until I could move on. It wasn't fair to emotionally rely on him the way I did – no matter how much I cared for him – until he was able to disentangle himself from the complex web of emotion that bound us inextricably together – until he was able to move on from me.

I sat and listened to the sound of the crickets, pondering my fate. Right now, everything seemed strange, uncertain. I was immortal – but did I want that immortality, if that meant living forever apart from Kian, apart from Logan? And what would happen if I lost my kingdom, lost my people, lost Kian? Would I stay in Feyland? Or would I go back to the Land Beyond the Crystal River and try to make a life there. Without either Logan and Kian. I smiled bitterly. I couldn't imagine what a life outside of Feyland would be like. I'd never love again – I knew that all too well – but perhaps I could try something like normalcy. A normal life, a normal job, contented solitude. Trying to forget Feyland, as if it were nothing more than a midsummer night's dream. Perhaps that was what I was meant to do now.

But something within me raged against the prospect. No, I told myself. You're part of this now, Breena. You'll keep your throne or you'll perish in the attempt. This life, this world, is part of you – and you could never be happy anywhere but here. You belong to Feyland, and Feyland to you. This throne is your birthright; it is your destiny. And you yourself know that whatever happens, you'll never leave it, never stop trying, never give up, never surrender. No matter what happens. It was true. I would face a thousand mobs rather than retreat in despair.

When I heard the rustling of the leaves, my body tensed up. Was my first mob on the horizon – had somebody found me at last? I heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the glen.

“Psst!” I tried to signal to Logan, but he was too far away. “Psst!”

A raspy female voice echoed across the clearing. “We'll get 'em first. That's the only way. Surprise attack.”

The voice sounded strangely familiar – like a voice from a dream. But before I could process the sound or make sense of her, she was on top of me, a knife at my throat, a cloth over my face to hide my eyes.

“What the....” From the shout at the other end of the glen, I knew that Logan too, had been ambushed.

“Don't move – fiend!” The female voice on top of me was slow, menacing, commanding.

“Where did you hide the loot?” A male voice was on top of Logan. “Come on, out with it.”

“What loot?” I heard Logan say. And then, after a pause. “Rodney?”

“Logan?” Rodney sounded just as shocked as Logan did. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

I struggled to see what was happening, but the body straddling me kept the blindfold over my eyes, the sharp edges of the knife pressingly lightly into my neck.

“We thought you were robbers, highwaymen. The same bandits who stole our provisions earlier. Figured we'd try stealing them back.”

We? I tried to catch a glimpse of my assailant through the gauze of the blindfold. “Shasta?” I choked out, but the dagger did not move.

“It's fine, Shasta!” Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Rodney had gotten up, Logan in tow. “They're not robbers. It's just Logan and Breena. The coast is clear.”

But Shasta did not move. She pressed the dagger further into my neck. “I know exactly who it is,” she hissed, through clenched teeth. “It's the bitch that broke my brother's heart, and sent him into exile. I told you once that if you were ever so stupid as to hurt my brother, I'd hurt you a million times worse than you could ever imagine. Didn't pay attention, did you, Breena? Well, let me tell you, I look forward to the privilege.”

“The...spell...” I coughed out, my heart racing. Had Shasta, too, succumbed to the mysterious shadows that had turned everyone against me? She took off the blindfold of my eyes, throwing it into the soil and looking down at me with savage eyes. She was still mind-blowingly beautiful; if anything, her anger only increased her loveliness, adding crimson fire to her porcelain cheeks, her eyes blazing with fury. For a moment I lay staring at her, stunned by her beauty, too entranced by her resemblance to Kian to even fight back.

“It's no spell,” sneered Shasta. “Don't get me wrong – I know what you're talking about. Things are going wrong, going crazy. Bandits are roaming Feyland. No law, no order. No civilization. Not that you've done anything about that, of course. But rest assured, it's only hit the Summer Kingdom so far. We haven't been affected. The hatred I feel for you right now is all my own.”

“Shasta!” cried Rodney, his voice full of warning.

“Don't Shasta me!” She looked down at me, fury on her face. “You knew how much Kian loved you. You knew! And you broke his heart anyway. You left him – left him for that Wolf....”

“Don't bring animal politics into this,” Logan was getting angry.

“What are you talking about?” I was almost too stunned to speak. “It wasn't my decision to...” The words caught in my throat. “Kian broke up with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Shasta looked at me with disdain. “Kian would never have done that! He was crazy about you – although who knows why? You obviously didn't deserve his loyalty...”

“Actually, she did.” Logan's rage was barely contained beneath his smooth, polite speech; his ears had turned pink with fury. “I don't know what you're implying, Shasta, but I'll have you know that Breena and I are nothing but friends. She's been a wreck since Kian left – and I've been protecting her against these crazy mobs because Kian isn't here to do it because he left her. As you can see from our sleeping arrangements, Breena and I are entirely chaste.”

“Kian...left you...” Shasta looked confused. “But why?”

“It doesn't matter,” I snapped, taking advantage of Shasta's momentary change in focus to wriggle out from under her and get out of stabbing distance from her. “He left, okay? So before you start accusing me of sending anyone into exile...”

“Then you don't know where he is?” Shasta began to look worried.

“No...” I said. “Don't you? He didn't tell you where he was going – after coming back to the Winter Palace?”

Shasta shook her head. She was still glaring at me, but at least her instinct towards murder seemed to have subsided. “No,” she said. “I have no idea where he is. Rodney and I have been searching. We thought you'd sent him into exile, hid him somewhere...”

“She thought,” Rodney interjected. “I thought something had to be up. A spell, enchantment, something. I know you and Kian, Breena. And while I find it difficult to believe anyone can love anyone else as much as I love Shasta...” he turned a bright shade of tomato red. “You two come pretty close. You wouldn't be apart without a reason.”

“I just hope that's true,” I whispered. “All I hope is that it's true.”

Chapter 16

Shasta gave me a wary look, raising her elegantly arched eyebrows with a mixture of disdain and suspicion. “I don't know,” she said softly. “This isn't like my brother – not like him at all.” A flush of rosebud color came to her cheeks. “What did you say happened between you two, then?”

“I didn't.” I wasn't in the mood for sharing girlish confidences. Having her dagger firmly planted at my throat wasn't exactly the ideal starting point for our sisterly relationship. “Does it matter?”

“My brother's missing,” said Shasta shortly. “It matters to me.” I couldn't help but feel for her then, despite my irritation with her. We both loved Kian, after all. And as much as her hot-tempered defensiveness of him put me off, I couldn't resist admiring her for it. Shasta was fiercely loyal to those she loved – a quality I recognized from Kian's own passionate loyalty to me. How could I fault her for her anger, when I knew that if the situation had been reversed, I would be just as violent in the defense of the man I loved.

“Then believe me when I say it matters to me too,” I said, taking a tentative step towards her and taking hold of her hand. She pulled it away, avoiding my gaze. “I love Kian.” The words brought tears to my eyes. “You have to believe that. I know I haven't always committed easily. Where I come from, in the mortal world, eighteen is considered a very, very young age to  marry, and I won't deny I was afraid, deep down, of getting married, of spending the rest of eternity with someone I'd only just met, in a land that is still strange to me. But deep down, I know Kian is the man I'm meant to be with forever. Our love is stronger than my fears, and it always has been. I have never, ever betrayed Kian – not, at least, when in my own mind.” I blushed scarlet as I remembered the effect of Wort's love potion. “I hope that my actions have never given you reason to doubt that – ever.”

“I suppose not,” said Shasta, but she didn't look overly keen at the idea of giving up on her plan of killing me for revenge.

“I'm looking for him too, Shasta,” I said. “I thought maybe someone in your family knew where he was. I last saw him when he went to the Winter Palace....we had an argument and....he decided to leave. I followed him to the Winter Palace and found a letter he'd written, saying he needed time, to go off, to decide whether or not we could still be together. That was the last I heard of him. But I started to get these strange dreams – dreams that might have been visions. Of Kian being held somewhere dark, somewhere without any magic, growing old, forgetting me, forgetting everything...”

“How do you know the dream was real?” Shasta was blunt and acerbic. “And not just some projection of your insecurities.”

“Believe me,” I said. “I know. The same way you'd know if Rodney was in trouble.”

As Shasta looked over to Rodney, her grim expression softening, I saw a look of utter love and adoration on her face. She may have been stern and uncompromising with me, but one look at Rodney was enough to reveal the passionate vulnerability behind her steely gaze. Her love for her own knight was palpable, for real. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as I watched them stare into one another's eyes, rapt with joy. After all, what they had had never been broken, never been altered. They had given up everything for one another – Shasta had sacrificed honor, her title, her mother's respect – but now, no longer royalty, they were happy together. The way Kian and I had never been able to be happy – free, at last, of all the chaos that got in the way of their union.

“And you know, too, that something's wrong, don't you?” I continued on. “You can sense when something's wrong with your brother, can't you? Some sort of telepathy that links the magic of Winter Fey – blood ties?”

She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “Yes,” she said at last. “I've been having nightmares, too.”

“Then we should team up,” Logan said. “We're all heading towards the same place, wherever that is, and we're some of the very few who don't seem to be affected by this mysterious spell that's been turning Feyland into a circus. There's no point in splitting up – we've got to stick together.”

A long pause fell over us while Shasta considered, biting her lip. “Fine,” she said at last. “But don't expect me to like it. I still say my brother would never have left Breena without a reason – and I'm not prepared to say that you didn't hurt him.” She swallowed. “I know he cared for you, Logan, but I know your relationship with Breena wasn't easy for him, either.”

Logan looked at the ground, ashamed. “I know,” he said. “I'm not proud of that. But Breena and I have both acknowledged that nothing will ever, ever happen between us. And we're prepared to do what it takes to make sure Kian knows that, too.”

“Anyway,” said Rodney, breaking the awkward silence. “We should get going. I'm not interested in waiting around here until another angry mob finds us.”

“Fine,” said Shasta. “But which way are we heading?”

“We don't even know where to start,” admitted Logan.

“Well,” said Shasta. “I think I do. This nightmare I've been having about Kian – he's somewhere without magic, right?”

“Right,” I said.

“Well, there's only one place that Fey magic doesn't always work – a place that has its own magic, that sometimes interferes with Fey practice.”

“The ancient realms?” I cut in.

“How did you know?” Shasta looked surprised.

“I had a hunch...” I said. “Logan and I have been wondering about another lead – someone from those Ancient Realms. The White Witch.”

“The White Witch? But she can't enter Feyland!”

“Not unless she's invited in,” said Logan darkly. “By someone with the power and authority to do so.”

“You mean – you think Kian invited her in?”

“Maybe not on purpose,” I hurried to explain. “Maybe she tricked him. But the magic we're seeing – it's not normal Fey magic.” I explained about the appearance of the little girl.

“That doesn't sound like Fey magic,” Shasta said, nodding. “That sounds like witchcraft to me. I've never heard of any Fey creating an apparition you can touch. One you can see, maybe. But a physical one – that's much more serious. And more difficult. If the White Witch does have Kian, then we're in for a serious battle.”

“It will be dangerous,” Rodney looked grave. “If we go to the Ancient Realms, we have no guarantees that our magic will work. The border area between the Realms and Feyland is a strange place – unexpected things happen. One minute our magic will be fine – the next,” he snapped his fingers, “gone.”

“It seems like today is my lucky day.” Logan laughed bitterly. “I've spent my life getting used to not having magic – all of us Wolves have. We know how to fight without sparks flying from our fingertips. Which means we're particularly well-suited to fighting in the Ancient Realms.” He threw back his head and let out a long, low howl.

Instantly, we began hearing replies – the howling of wolves echoing across the woodland.

“I've signalled my Wolves,” he said. “I've told them to assemble at Ragnor's Peak. It's the furthest village towards the Ancient Realms, about a five-day journey from here.” He looked over at Shasta and Rodney. “Or faster, if you want to use your wings.”

“It's dangerous,” said Rodney. “We don't want to sap our magical energy too much...”

“But time is of the essence,” Shasta insisted. “And if our magic won't work once we're there, we might as well use up our energy now, rather than later.” She turned to Logan. “But how will you keep up? If you can't fly...”

“I have my ways.” Logan smiled mysterious. “Shasta, do you know the way to Radnor’s Peak?”

“Due north,” she said. “Not difficult – I'll follow the Belt of Helen in the sky – the seven stars are easy enough to follow.”

“Then let's go. Now. To Radnor’s Peak. From there we can narrow down our search.”

“Yes,” I said. Somehow, it felt right – as if some magic deep within me sensed at the mention of the place-name that Kian might be there.

And with that, we spread our wings, rising gossamer and glowing into the dark night sky. Fairies flew only rarely – we did not like to sap our strength, and too much flying made using magic in battle more difficult – but now, we knew, speed was our top priority.

“And Logan?” Shasta turned to me as we floated through the air. “What's he going to do?”

“Look!” Rodney pointed towards Logan, who had reverted into his Wolf form and had begun to run through the trees, heading due north just as we were. But he wasn't running like a normal wolf. His whole body was enveloped in a green glow, as warm and intense as the light shining from an emerald, a glow that seemed to make his paws glide above the ground. My mouth fell open with admiration. Logan had truly learned to harness his magic in record time – it had taken me months to learn to use my own – and as he ran, faster even than a fairy's flight, he looked more noble, more beautiful, than I have ever seen him.

“The Wolf has magic?” Shasta turned to me as we flew, following the light of Logan's journey. “How?”

“It's a long story,” I said. “But all the Wolves are regaining their magic now – not just Logan.”

“How nice for them,” said Shasta drily. “I'm sure that makes Logan quite a catch, now.” She eyed me suspiciously.

“Believe me, Shasta,” I said. “That's over. It was over a long time ago – and maybe it took Kian leaving for me to acknowledge it for sure. But it is over. And I'm sure before long, Logan too, will move on.”

“Well, let's hope not too quickly, for Alistair's sake,” shot in Rodney with a laugh.

“You think....” Shasta pursed her lips. “Rose?”

“Alistair's one of my best friends,” said Rodney, “and Rose would never let on to him – or to anybody else – that she felt the way she does about Logan. She thinks it's hopeless, a lost cause. But...if it isn't....”

Shasta laughed darkly. “Well, let's get my brother back, first,” she said. “And then we can worry about love again.” Her expression softened. “Who knows,” she said, almost smiling. “Maybe there will be a second wedding, after yours?”

“I hope so,” I said. But as we sped on towards Radnor’s Peak, I couldn't shake my doubts. I knew now in my heart that I was committed to Kian. But did he still feel the same way?

Chapter 17

The stone towers of Radnor’s Peak appeared in the distance shortly before dawn. The tall defensive towers, each one long-since converted into homes for the shepherds that tended their flocks in these parts, stood in a ring around the outskirts of the village, while a grouping of smaller thatched-roof huts stood in a cluster in the center.

“Wait,” whispered Shasta, stopping us behind one of the towers. “Something's happening...” She landed on the roof of one of the towers, and Rodney and I came to a stop shortly behind her. She pointed at the town center. There, in the main square, a group of people had gathered. Instinctively, my muscles tensed up. I'd already seen what a mob could do back near the Summer Court; I didn't want to get caught up in another riot. But I could hear no shouting, no screams. It seemed that the villagers were no longer rioting. In fact, they all stood still, stone-still.

“They're...kneeling,” said Shasta, squinting to see better. With a howl, Logan signalled to us that he was going to get closer, to try to figure out what was going on. He, at least, could go easily in disguise – skulking around the village like a particularly large stray dog.

“At least there isn't an effigy of me that they're burning,” I said bitterly. “That's a small improvement over the last village.”

We caught sight of Logan heading back towards us, and Rodney quickly flew to the ground, picking up Logan and bringing him with us to the top of the tower. Logan morphed into his human form, coughing and spluttering.

“Something's very, very strange,” he said. “That thing in the town center – it's not a riot. It's...a coronation.”

“A coronation?” Shasta looked aghast. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“They're crowning a new Queen,” said Logan, with a gulp. “A new Queen of all Feyland. This woman....” he shuddered. “This beautiful woman with these eyes that just bore straight through me. She wasn't a Fey. She was something else.” He gasped, still shaking. “She was one of the most gorgeous creatures I'd ever seen. And when she fixed her eyes on me, it was like...she could make me do anything. For a second, I felt like I'd give up our whole mission, our whole plan, my responsibilities, everything, just to make her happy. And then she turned to another Fairy, and suddenly...the feeling vanished. It was scary, I tell you! It was like – imagine not having any control over your desires, your wants, your own mind.”

“Well, if Kian did act like a complete idiot and let her into Feyland,” said Shasta, “I guess I can understand why.”

“Glad to hear you're sympathetic,” I muttered. Evidently, Shasta was allowed to mock her own brother, even if I wasn't.

“I heard her name when they crowned her Queen,” said Logan. “They were all calling her name, saying All hail Queen Gail Vines. All hail Queen Gail Vines.”

“Gail Vines?” Shasta pursed her lips. “Are you sure that's what her name was?” She sighed. “That really...really doesn't sound good?”

Rodney put a hand on her shoulder. “What do you mean?” He furrowed his brow with worry. “Who's Gail Vines? Are we meant to know who that is?”

“I know who that is,” said Shasta. “I've heard my mother talk about her.”

“The White Witch?”

“No,” said Shasta. “Not at all. Back when the White Witch was banished from Feyland, many years ago, others were vanished with her. All her supporters. And her retinue of servants. Among them not merely witches of the coven, but also once-ordinary fairies who had chosen to support the White Witch. And of those, it is written in the annals of the history of Feyland, there was one maidservant that was more suspicious than the rest, one whom my mother made a special note never to allow into Feyland again. Many of the servants who supported the White Witch were given only temporary banishments – it was only the White Witch who was permanently exiled, along with her coven. But not Gail Vines. The chief scullery maid in the palace, she was found guilty – or so my mother wrote – of terrible crimes, of witchcraft that bordered on the truly dire, witchcraft that rivalled the power of the White Witch herself!”

“Then you think...” Rodney tried to follow Shasta's argument. “Is Gail Vines the new White Witch?”

“I wouldn't be surprised,” said Shasta. “But if she is – then that means the White Witch is even fiercer when we thought. Anyone powerful enough to murder the old White Witch and get back into Feyland – enchanting my brother into losing his mind – isn't someone we take lightly.”

“But if Kian had the power to bring her into Feyland,” I pressed Shasta further. “Then wouldn't he have the power to take her away again? Couldn't he banish her once more?”

“Getting her out of Feyland is going to be difficult,” said Shasta. “Very difficult.” She pointed at the village below us. “I mean, look at what's happened to Radnor’s Peak. I remember how this was years ago. This was a lovely village, a pleasant place, full of peace and harmony. A place where villagers worked the land side by side, helping their neighbours, supporting one another. And now, look! You can see here that the houses have been burned down, or at least some of them have; others have been looted. The market that used to stand in this square is gone completely, vanished into nothingness. And all because of this one woman, this one Gail Vines, and her ability to convince people of anything...anything at all.”

“So we have to convince the people otherwise,” said Logan. “We have to show them the truth.”

“But how?” I pleaded. “Are we supposed to hex them back? Is that what being a ruler is about – having stronger magic in order to convince the people that you're the one who should rule? If we enchant the villagers into supporting us, doesn't that make us just as bad as Gail Vines herself?”

The others fell silent at this. “That's a fair point,” said Shasta. “We can't just go about putting spells on people just because they don't agree with us, or don't want Breena to rule. For starters, we wouldn't be able to tell who was affected by the Shadow Puppets, and who just doesn't support Breena's rule...” She smiled darkly. “I'm sure there are some fairies out there who don't.”

“I'm not arguing with you,” I said.

“It's a dangerous precedent,” Rodney agreed. “If we start enchanting people's minds, then there's no difference between us and the Gail Vines of this world. We can't use magic – not that it would even work here if we wanted it too. Fey magic is weak against the magic of those like Gail Vines. There's no guarantee our magic wouldn't backfire on us.”

“We'll have to do things the old-fashioned way,” said Logan. “Convincing people that Breena's the rightful Queen. And getting our teeth and claws into that no-good witch Gail Vines.” His fangs took on a decidedly lupine sheen as he spoke. “After what she's done to Breena, not to mention to the whole of Feyland, she needs to pay for what she's done.”

“But we've got to find Kian first,” I said. “If he is here – but I'm guessing that he might be...”

“He's here.” Shasta looked determined. “I can sense it.”

“You can sense it?” I was taken aback. I'd assumed that the psychic bonds linking Kian to those he cared about had all been broken together. It had never occurred to me before that Shasta would be able to reach Kian, even if I could not. Fear started up in my heart again. Why couldn't Kian and I communicate the way we always did? Why hadn't our love led me to him?

“Is he saying anything to you?” I tried to sound calm as I turned with a questioning gaze to Shasta. “Is he giving anything away about his location?”

“He's not speaking to me outright,” Shasta said. “But I can sense his presence.” A few intermittent blue sparks were shining at her fingertips. “He's in one of these towers.” She scanned the horizon. “But which one....?” She swallowed as she gazed towards the tallest, most powerful-looking turret of them all. “I have a lucky guess,” she said, with a  grim expression on her face.

“How do we get in?” Logan turned to Shasta. “Any great ideas?”

“We don't want to fly,” I said. “It would attract too much attention, us flying over Radnor’s Peak.”

A howl gave us our answer. The Wolves had appeared on the horizon – a close-knit pack that Logan seemed to recognize. He gave a second howl, and the Wolves gathered around the base of the tower.

“There,” said Logan. “I and the other Wolves can try to break in. We'll just look like a pack of stray dogs – nothing to attract attention. I'll beg for food from one of the guards, and when their backs are turned...” he smiled. “We'll get Kian out of there and head straight back here.”

“I'm coming with you!” I took a step forward. “He's my fiancé, after all. Or at least, he was. I have to be part of this rescue mission.”

“No,” Shasta took a decisive step towards me. “It's too dangerous,” she said. “You need to stay well out of sight. The Wolves are used to fighting without magic. As much as I hate to admit it, they're better equipped than we are this time around. And Kian would never forgive me if I let you get into any trouble on his behalf.” She gave me a small, slow smile. A subtle sign of forgiveness. Very subtle, I thought to myself.

“Right,” said Logan, bowing low before me. I could see it in his eyes – how he longed to touch me, to hold me, to embrace me as he always did before going off to certain danger. But he held himself back, and I too bit back the urge to hug him goodbye, allowing him to bid me farewell in the more formal manner of a courtly knight. “Keep a lookout,” he said. “If anything happens, Breena, you fly in and get Kian out of there.”

And with that he was off, heading with his pack of Wolves towards the tower where Kian was being held.

I watched the pack skulk around the edges of the tower. One of them, a Wolf I knew was called Gideon, started begging for food, whining in a high-pitched, nasal voice, putting up his paws.

“Shoo!” The guard looked annoyed, rather than suspicious – at least from this distance. My heart began to race. The plan was working. Gideon whined a bit louder, rolling on his back like a mortal puppy.

“I think it's working,” Shasta whispered, squinting to see better. “He's rolling his eyes – he's going in to see if there's any meat, any food, he's unlocking the gate...yes!”

The gate was open. The Wolves had gone in.

Chapter 18

Shasta clenched my hand as she watched the battle unfold. The temptation to fly out with Logan, to participate in the melee, was overwhelming. The idea that Kian could really be there, be so close to me, drove me wild with anticipation and desire – as well as fear. Why had he cut off our telepathic connection? Why wasn't he answering me? I flushed with fear as I leaned against the railing of the tower, trying to spy what was going on. The Wolves had entered the tower; there were at least thirty of them, breaking into the prison as we spoke, seizing him...if he was even there at all...

“Look!” Shasta's face was transformed with joy. “Look, there he is!”

My heart all but stopped. There he was, being carried on the backs of two Wolves, slumped in their arms – injured but still discernibly, definitely alive. Before I could make any movement, Shasta flew down to pick him up in her arms and carry him to the height of the tower; Logan followed swiftly after, jumping to our hideout in a single, green-glowing leap.

And there he was before me. That same smooth skin; that same rippling muscled chest I knew and loved so well. Those same dark blue eyes that bore straight through into my soul, making me weak at the knees. He looked weary, to be sure – his face and body spoke of injury and exhaustion – but that hardly mattered to me. This was Kian – this was my love – he was here, before me, at last. At that moment I didn't care about our arguments, about our fights, about what we'd said to one another, about any recriminations at all. All I wanted to do was to sink into his loving arms once more, to wrap my arms about him and kiss and kiss and kiss him with a hungry mouth, giving into my longing, my desire.

“Kian?” My voice shook like an earthquake. “Kian – I've missed you so much!” I couldn't stop myself; I threw myself into his arms, wrapping my own tightly around his chest, kissing his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his lips, overwhelmed by the force of my own passion, overcome with joy that we were here together again, reunited at last. “Kian – I'm so sorry – please forgive me, I'm so sorry...”

He pulled away sharply, abruptly, causing me to tumble to the floor.

“Madam,” he said, his voice stiff, his eyes turned from me. “Would you mind refraining from making a spectacle of yourself in public?”

His words were cold and cruel; they hit me like a thunderbolt. Not even in the first few days of our courtship had Kian been this distant, this arrogant, this removed. I looked into his eyes and felt my heart break. The worst was true. The eyes that stared back into my own were utterly devoid of love, utterly devoid of emotion.

“Kian...” My voice still wavered. “It's me, Breena! Don't you recognize me?”

“Of course I recognize you.” He sounded mildly irritated. “I don't see why you had to come all the way out here just to throw yourself at my feet. I mean, it's terribly dramatic, don't you think?”

“But...I had to find you! You were in danger.”

“I was perfectly all right, thank you, madam,” he said. “I had hoped that you'd be able to treat our parting with some degree of dignity and serenity, but I see instead you've chosen to drag my whole family into your embarrassing hysterics. I'm terribly sorry to hurt you, madam, but I have made my intentions quite clear. I'm simply no longer interested in caterwauling of this nature. I have better things to do.”

I stood still, my mouth open, staring at him in wonder and confusion, feeling my heart become ground to dust within my chest. Could this be? Was Kian – my Kian – who loved me once, who once promised me all of eternity – speaking to me as if I meant nothing to him at all.

“But you love me...” I found myself whispering as the tears trickled down my face. “You love me, Kian, don't you?”.

“Loved.” His voice was light and sharp. “I have, thank goodness, been cured of that affliction long ago.”

“But – I haven't been! What about everything we've shared, Kian? What about us?”

He laughed, a cruel and bitter laugh filled with sarcasm. “I've learned, Breena. I see now what a fool I was to think of mingling my pure bloodline with a half-caste wench like yourself, what an embarrassment my behavior was to all those that I cared about. To my mother, who died in shame because of her son's weakness. To the whole line of Winter Princes who were far better than I in freeing themselves from the wretched diseases of love and affection that made me a weak, feeble leader. Well, Breena, no longer. No longer am I interested in being your puppy, your follower, your spaniel, your swain, your dog. If I wish to rule, I shall do so without your mewing interferences. I don't take kindly to being ill-treated – but in your case I thank you for it. Had you not behaved with such lack of care towards me, I would never have realized what a fool I was to love you in the first place. So rest assured, Breena. You can marry your hulking Wolf in peace. I will be no impediment to that marriage. I will gladly let you go – come to the wedding as a kind of peace offering to ensure that your kingdom and mine do not get involved in any more war. I may even buy you a present. But I have no interest in any drama.”

“B...b...b...” I struggled to get the words out. “But I don't want anybody else, Kian. You're the only one I want. I can't marry Logan. Not with the way I feel for you.” I lowered my eyes so as not to see the pain in Logan's eyes. “You're the only one I ever loved. You're the only one I ever wanted. I know you can't mean this – that you don't mean this – that you're just doing it to push me away, because you think this is what I want.” It had to be true; it was the only truth I could bear. “But please, please Kian, don't let this be true. I want to be with you, and only you. I made my choice long ago; I just didn't realize it until now. Please don't let things end like this between us – Kian – please...”

“I'm terribly sorry you're hurting, of course,” Kian looked utterly unconcerned with the fact that I was sobbing hysterically at his feet. “But there's nothing I can do. I simply no longer love you. If you don't wish to marry Logan, that's certainly your business, and I won't insist. But I have no interest in being groom to an overemotional half-breed like yourself.”

“How dare you!” Logan had flushed scarlet, taking a step forward. “How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you hurt her in this way?”

“I'm simply being honest,” Kian shrugged, utterly insensible to my pain. I was on the floor, now, gasping for breath, feeling the world reel around me, the floor crumble under me, the sky open up and swallow me. Nothing made sense any longer; nothing mattered. I didn't care about life, about Feyland, about existence itself. If I could have waved my hands and made the whole world implode, with me at the center of the conflagration, I would have done it without a second's thought.

“She loves you, Kian,” Logan clenched his teeth. “Believe me, I wish it wasn't true, but it is. And she's chosen you – again and again. And again and again I've suffered the heartbreak of knowing she's chosen you over me. And you know what, Kian? I'm happy to walk away. I'm happy to do it – even though it eats me up inside – because Breena's happiness is more important to me than anything in the world. But I'd sooner walk into the mouth of the Fire Pits of Sackler than walk away from Breena if it means leaving her with a callous, idiotic coward like you! How dare you spit in the face of her sacrifice – and mine! How dare you?” He took a step forward and shoved Kian, causing him to stumble backwards. “I'm ashamed we were ever once friends.”

“You – call me a coward?” Kian scoffed. “When you've been sniffing around my fiancé in vain for years, too sniveling to say anything about your feelings, hoping you could get my crumbs from under the table!” He grabbed a sword from Rodney's belt before any of us could move, and began waving it wildly in Logan's direction.

“Stop!” I rushed between the two of them, feeling myself grow dizzy with motion. “Both of you, stop it! This is crazy! Please – we have to focus on Gail Vines right now – on getting her out of Feyland...”

Focus. The last thing I could do right now. The last thing my body or my soul wanted to do. The thing we had to do.

“You need a woman to defend you?” Kian scoffed. “You really are the coward, aren't you?”

“I'll show you just how much of a coward I am!” shouted Logan. “Right here, right now. And I'll enjoy doing it.”

“Stop, please!” I cried, but my screams were in vain.

“Now just a second, here.” Shasta had taken a step forward, her hands on her hips. “You're my brother, Kian, and I love you, and I've known you to do many stupid things in your life. But this is the absolute stupidest I've ever seen you. I know you love Breena – believe me, I'm surer of that than I am of anything. So if Kian's acting like a complete bonehead – there's only one thing behind it. Magic. Can't you see – he's been enchanted!”

“I most certainly have not!” said Kian loudly.

“Then what were you doing in Gail Vines’ prison? Just hanging out? Having some fun?”

This caused Kian to fall silent. “I...can't remember.”

“You don't remember how you got there?” Shasta raised an eyebrow.

“Something...” He furrowed his brow. “I was in this room – with Gail. And we were drinking this wine...no...it wasn't wine at all...”

“Potion?” Shasta looked dubious.

“I...don't remember.”

“There you have it,” Shasta crossed her arms. “Looks like Gail's gotten to Kian, too.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Don't worry, Breena – we'll cure him, too.”

“I don't need to be cured of anything!” Kian exclaimed. “I've already been cured!”

Somehow, I found my voice, my strength, in the midst of my despair. “We'll worry about that later,” I said, trying to restrain my sobs. “For now – we have to defeat Gail Vines.”

“Do you?” A high, cold cruel voice caused us all to turn around. Standing before us was a beautiful woman with dark, blazing eyes, her hands on her hips. “I'd like to see you try.”

Chapter 19

So, this was the woman who stood before us, the woman who had filled our hearts with fear for so long. Gail Vines. Gail. The White Witch. The woman who had in the space of a few days taken away everything that I held dear. My people. My love. My crown.

“Welcome, Breena.” Her voice was sibilant and soft, like a snake's hiss. “I see you have come to try to regain your crown.” She laughed. “Or have you come to surrender, to go into exile the way you sent me and my kind into exile so many years ago?”

“Your kind?” Rodney took a threatening step forth.

“My coven.” Gail smiled, showing sharp-fanged teeth. As she spoke, the numerous shadows that had gathered around her feet began to morph, changing shape and form and color, growing dark and solid. Each shadow transformed into a woman – a woman young, beautiful, and terrifying, just like Gail. “We are the Witches. Many of us were the servants and slaves of the first White Witch, but that was a long time ago. Now, we are the ones who rule. You don't know what it is like, do you, Breena? You were born to so much privilege. To a throne to which you were entitled by virtue of simply being born, nothing more. To men who threw themselves at your feet, overcome by...” she grimaced. “Love. To nothing more than pure, blind luck.” She snorted. “You never knew deprivation. You never knew servitude. You never earned your crown. But I did. I was born to servitude, to destitution. The first White Witch thought I could be bossed around, pushed around, that I was a nobody. But she was wrong. She learned her lesson when I killed her.” She laughed, and as she laughed the other witches laughed with her.

“Now it is I who rule as the White Witch over the Ancient Realms – and soon I will rule, too, over Feyland.”

“You lie!” Shasta's eyes blazed with anger. “Breena has overcome more struggle, more hardship, than you will ever know. She was the one who united the two Kingdoms of Feyland, who restored the Suns...”

Kian said nothing, but only stared at the White Witch – confusion in his dazed expression. Just looking at him hurt me, reminded him of his cold, cruel words. But I couldn't let myself give into that pain. Not now. I just had to keep telling myself, keep reminding myself, that it was a spell, nothing more. That Kian's love for me had to be real – deep down. That somehow, he had to still love me.

“That's not what the people think?” Gail began to smile maliciously, her teeth glittering like stars. “Shall we ask them, though, just to be sure?” She waved her hand, and instantly the tower seemed to crumble beneath our feet; we were standing not atop the tower but rather in the center of the town square, surrounded by villagers. They were looking at me with eyes full of hatred, of loathing.

“Behold the False Queen!” One of them snarled. “The Betrayer! Breena the Unworthy!”

“Depose her!” Another cried. “She is no ruler of ours – Breena the Unworthy!”

They began chanting insults at me, screaming, hurling oath after oath upon me.

“Can't you see?” Logan thundered with rage. “You're under a spell – it's a lie! When has Breena ever betrayed you, ever let you down? When has she ever done anything but give her whole body, her whole soul, her whole life to Feyland!”

“She's a half-breed!” One of the villagers hurled a stone at me. “A human! A filthy human!”

“She's a human who left behind her whole life, her whole world, to save us!” Rodney took a step between me and the villagers, shielding me from their stones. “She gave up all her dreams, all her plans, to bring an end to the war between Winter and Summer. To bring food to us after the famine. To ward off the Dark Hordes! She never needed to use Shadow Puppets to win your hearts and minds – never needed to use spells or trickery to provoke discord among you in order to gain power. She got her power by being a good ruler, by earning your love, earning your respect!”

“Nonsense!” The villagers cried in a single voice.

Shasta took a step forward. “Can't you see what Gail has done? Taken away everything good in your lives. Taken away your love for one another, your neighborly feeling, your trust? Fostered hatred and discord. Separated families. Made you hate everyone different from you – Wolves against Fey, husbands against wives, rich against poor. Is this what you want from your world? Is this how you want Feyland to be? A place where the most powerful prey on the weak and the vulnerable, where whoever's shadow puppets whisper the most insidious gossip rules over all of Feyland? This isn't the Feyland I grew up in, that's for sure! This isn't the Feyland I believe in.”

Her words were greeted with a bitter murmur from the crowd. They fell silent for a moment, as if made ashamed by her words.

“You see?” sneered Gail. “They don't want you. They don't need you. Now, you needn't worry. I won't kill you. I don't like things to get messy. I'm giving you all the opportunity to step aside. To go to the Ancient Realms, into exile, or else to go back to those filthy Human lands, places where your love, your weakness, might be welcome. For they are no longer welcome here.” She took a step towards me, smiling at me with that chilling, convincing smile. “Come on, Breena. It's easy. Just go home – go back to Feyland. Bring Shasta and Rodney with you. None of you will suffer. You can live out your days in peace – back where you belong.” She laughed. “And I'll even sweeten the deal. I'll re-enchant your love, so that he falls for you once again. You'll finally have the man of your dreams – and none of the responsibility that has weighed you down for so long.”

For a moment I hesitated, charmed by her words. Did she really mean it? That this pain – this pain of losing the man I loved – could end? I could go home – go back to Gregory – me and Kian, together. Ready to live out our days together, happily married. I looked over at Kian, who was staring at me with a blank expression.

For a moment I wanted to believe in Gail's words, willing to believe anything, to do anything, to say anything, just to see the look of love in Kian's eyes once more. Images of Kian ran through my mind – memories we'd shared, moments we'd spent together, everything I loved about him. His beauty, his intelligence, his kindness, his honor.

His honor. No, the real Kian, the Kian I loved, would choose the good of Feyland over the callings of his own heart. He would choose what was right over what was easy – what was right for Feyland over what was best for him. He would never let love, not even the strongest love in the world, get in the way of the greater love, the love we felt for our land. I felt that love surge through me. Not love for Kian, not love for Logan, but love for Feyland, for its emerald forests and sapphire seas, for its crimson sunsets and snowy peaks, for this land to which I belonged, and which was an integral part of my being. No, this was a love that could never be allowed to die, never be allowed to wither. Giving up, giving in – all those things would prove my detractors right – prove that I was the unworthy leader they said I was.

It was time to make the ultimate sacrifice.

“The Kian I love,” I said, “would never love a Breena who gave up on Feyland. And I wouldn't love myself. I would rather fight for Feyland and lose everything in the attempt than live in the shame of knowing that I didn't try hard enough – that I let the land I love down.”

My words were met with silence. The townspeople looked at me suspiciously, eyeing me with a wary gaze. They looked back and forth from me to Gail, letting my words sink in.

“See!” Logan cried to the townspeople. “That is what a leader does! A leader who loves her people. Don't let Gail and her Shadow Puppets fool you, trick you, take you in. Don't let her fool you!”

Kian remained staring at me – gazing with increasing intensity.

“Attack!” cried Shasta, and Rodney and Shasta tried in unison to shoot bolts of fire and ice from their fingers. But nothing appeared. The Witches' power was too strong; our magic did not work here.

Gail scoffed. “You are powerless here,” she said. “This is my domain. Without your magic, you see, you are nothing. You are powerless.” She smiled cruelly.

“Not so fast, Gail!” cried Logan. “You're forgetting something.”

“What's that?”

“We Wolves know how to deal without magic. We've been doing it a long time. And we know exactly how to deal with your kind.”

And with that, he gave a long, loud howl.

And then the Wolves attacked.

Chapter 20

Kian

I watched the Wolves come; I watched the Witches. I did nothing – but only stood, and watched, and waited. Some voice in my brain, some part of my subconscious stifled by the rest of me, was crying out for me to take part, to help my sister, to help the woman I had once loved – but my body remained immobile, sluggish. I was reeling with exhaustion, with confusion. I didn't feel like myself. Something had happened – but what? There was something I was supposed to do, supposed to feel – but what? I felt only a curious emptiness at the bottom of my stomach, within my heart.

I watched as the Wolves began to attack the Witches, their bodies tensed and taut as their animal instincts anticipated the Witches' every move. Logan nipped and snapped at Gail's heels; Breena too was wielding a sword, buckling only slightly under its weight without the power of her magic to sustain her.

Breena. The woman I had once loved. As I watched her fight, I felt curiously numb. I was removed from her struggle, from any fears from her safety. Once, I could remember, I had cared for her – once she had hurt me. But she was nothing more to me than a human half-breed. I knew that, now. Gail's potion had made me see the light.

And yet her words burned within me. The Kian I love would never love a Breena who gave up on Feyland. I had seen her weep at my feet – regarding her with a cold, distant eye – when I had told her that I had no longer loved her. I had seen, had sensed her pain. This was a woman who had loved me, of this I had no doubt. And yet, when Gail had offered to force me to return her love, she had refused. She had chosen Feyland, chosen honor, chosen the battle over an easy surrender. Against myself I felt admiration bubble up within me. I may not have loved her, but she was without a doubt a force to be reckoned with – a true daughter of Feyland.

I could not tear my eyes away from her as I watched her fight. She was beautiful – made all the more beautiful by the intensity of battle. Sweat made her cheeks turn rosebud in a blush; her eyes blazed with the passion within. I bit my lip as I watched her raise her sword, clashing against the Witches, fearlessly fighting to the last.

I remembered Logan's words about her. About her selflessness, her courage, her vision. About all that she had done for Feyland – and all that she had sacrificed. I saw the looks on the faces of the villager – the admiration that had broken through their hatred of her, through their fear.

Were those things true? I thought back to what I knew of Breena, to what I remembered, despite the blur that made thoughts of her run together in my mind. I thought not only of her beauty – beauty that was painfully clear even now – but of her courage, her strength. Of how she had saved me from Delano, King of the Pixies. Of how she had fought to save her father, the Summer King, and stood up to her stepmother, the Summer Queen. How she had saved Feyland, time and time again.

Breena...I felt my lips whisper her name.

“Fool!” Gail was struggling against the Wolves. “You don't have the power to banish me – nobody does, except the one who let me into Feyland!” She was weakened, now – injured by Logan's savage bites – but glowing with a black fire, the fire of magical strength. “You will be remembered forever as Breena the Unworthy, Failed Queen of Feyland.”

“No!” My soul cried out before my mind realized what I was saying. “No!”

Not Breena. Not the wisest, bravest, strongest girl I know.

Not the woman I love.

My limbs seemed to snap to life; my whole body began to move, glowing in a powerful sapphire light. I began to walk towards her, emotion washing over me in waves. Memories of Breena – of the smell of her hair, of the sound of her voice, of the tantalizing sweetness of her skin, of everything that I held so dear – reminding me of how much I had loved her, needed her, wanted her, missed her.

When I reached Gail, I reached straight through the fire. The black flames burned my hands, but I barely felt the pain. I could feel nothing now but love – love certain and true, strong and powerful, love for Breena that dwarfed any physical pain in comparison.

“No!” Gail was crying out. “It's impossible! It cannot be! Nobody can break that spell! Nobody can overcome my potion!”

“Don't you ever,” I snarled, “speak that way about the woman I love again.”

“Kian!” It was Breena's voice – a voice overwhelmed with emotion, with joy. With happiness. With happiness I would give my whole life to ensure was never destroyed again.

I lifted Gail up with my bare hands, no longer feeling the pain of the flames. I walked towards the stone gates to the Ancient Realms, holding her aloft.

“You'll regret this, Kian!” Gail was screaming. “By the power of the White Witch, I'll make you regret it! Your love is making you weak – it's making you foolish.”

But I no longer heard her. I threw her across the gate.

No sooner had she landed with a heavy thud than the other witches, too, began to vanish, one by one, dissolving into shadows that in their turn dissolved into nothingness.

And then there was only silence.

I turned to Breena, who was standing before me, tears shining on her face. I collapsed to my knees, overcome by joy, by love, by the desire to take her into my arms once more. I knew then that no spells could ever separate us again, no potions, no enchantments. She was mine and I was hers; our destinies were ever intertwined.

“My darling...”I whispered. “I'm so sorry – so, so sorry...the spell...”

“You broke it.” She began to shake like a leaf in my arms. “You broke the spell.”

“I could never stop loving you, Breena. I never did. I loved you so much I thought it would kill me – but I never stopped. And I never will. My love for you is stronger than the strongest magic – and if you'll let me, I want to keep loving you until the end of time. Please, Breena, if you'll forgive me, if you'll have me, if you'll only accept my profound regret for all that I've done in my jealousy, in my stupidity. Please, Breena, do me the great honor, and give me the greater still joy, of becoming my wife.”

Her words were all but indistinguishable through her tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, I will.”

And then, again, through telepathy – through the connection that surged through us both like a flame.

Yes.

I love you.

Epilogue

Logan

So, this was the end. This is how Breena and I ended – how I always knew we would end, deep down. Me watching her pledge her heart to another – me knowing now, for the last and most certain time, that they were going to be together forever. That my love for her, strong as it was, wasn't true love. Would I have been able to withstand that potion? Perhaps, perhaps not. I would never know. I'd had my chance with Breena, after Kian left – and I had not taken it. It wasn't circumstance that had kept me and Breena apart – it was destiny. I knew that now. And I knew that the road towards moving on would be long and hard. But necessary.

But I knew that much lay still in store for me. One day, I hoped, Breena and I would be best friends again. As I had learned from the Summer King, the bond between the Summer Heir and the Wolf Prince was a historic one, one imbued with ancient magic. But before I could be a friend to Breena, I had to learn to move on, to find my own love, to follow my own heart, wherever it led.

Could I love another? The idea seemed possible for the first time. For the first time I wanted to love another – wanted to fall for someone whom I could love the way Breena and Kian loved one another. But could another love me? A face popped involuntarily into my mind – a beautiful, round face surrounded by a cloud of bright saffron-colored hair – a face so often brought to a blush of embarrassment, of flirtation...

No, impossible...I pushed the thought out of my mind. But it returned again – Rose's face, Rose's body. The only other girl I'd ever dreamt about. All during the ride back to the Summer Palace, I couldn't help but wonder, couldn't help but think... No, Alistair loves her. And she is with Alistair. It could never work...Alistair's your friend.

And then, as the Summer Palace came into view, as I ran into the courtyard and under the shadow of the orange blossoms, I saw her, and the sight made my heart go still.

“Logan?” She was more beautiful than I remembered, her rosebud blush in full bloom. “I came to greet you – they're waiting in the Great Hall for dinner.” She was out of breath, flushed, as if she'd been running. Her balance was precarious; I reached out and caught her to steady her. As soon as my hands touched her shoulders, I felt a curious stirring in my chest, as if my body itself had responded to our touching by spurring me on to touch her further. How had I never noticed the way she smelled before? It was as if my newfound magic had made me more sensitive to scent – to the way she smelled of apples and fresh-cut grain, of the harvest after rainfall. She smelled warm, inviting.

Funny, I thought. It was Kian who set out to be cured of his love for Breena – and it was I who found it. I would never stop loving Breena – but as I looked over at her, wrapped in Kian's arms – I felt for the first time that my love for Breena had changed. It was no longer romantic, no longer physical. Our time together had been a test of our love. I knew now what it would be like to be with her – with no obstacles in the way, no Kian competing for her affections – and knew that, even then, we were not to be. And I knew that it was time to stop nursing my hopeless crush. I'd been afraid to move on – afraid to expose myself to heartbreak again, to rejection. It had been easier to love hopelessly than to risk being hurt. But now there was no more fear.

I looked down at Rose. Her skin was smooth – so preternaturally smooth. Had it always been this way? I caught her eye and smiled at her smile.

“There's some news,” she said, furrowing her brow. “All is not well. The Summer King's consort...”

“Raine?”

“She's not well,” Rose looked worried. “She needs to go back to Oregon, to seek a doctor there. Our magic doesn't work on her.”

“Sick?”

I followed Rose to Raine's chamber, wondering what kind of illness it could be. But as soon as I saw Raine – radiant, but with eyes full of sadness – I knew. Her illness wasn't physical. It was mental. As she sat, cradling Breena in her arms, she smiled softly at me.

“Homesickness,” she whispered. “It's real, isn't it? I need to go back – back to where I belong. Humans like me don't belong in this place. I love Frank – and I always will. But I love my life back home in Oregon. My career. My world. I see the sacrifices that Breena has made, or will make, and I know that choice is right for her. But not right for me. But I need a Knight to accompany me on the journey.”

I turned to Rose. “Could you spare me?”

She flushed scarlet. “Me?”

I couldn't resist giving her a flirtatious kiss on the forehead – one that sent chills up and down my spine.

“I'd be happy to accompany you back to the Land Beyond the Crystal River, my lady,” I said, bowing low.

“You don't have to use titles with me,” Raine smiled. “Ms. Malloy will do just fine.”

“Mrs. Flametail, more like!” King Flametail appeared in the doorway, beaming. “I'm going back, too. I'm ready to hand over my title to Breena – full time. I'm an old man, and have been ruling for too long. It's time for me to retire. And retire I shall. But I have one last act before I go.” He put his hand on my shoulders. “As of this morning, the Summer Kingdom is officially changing its constitution to recognize all Fey of Wolf descent to be official citizens of the Summer Kingdom, and enjoy all rights, comforts, and benefits that go therein. And I wish, too, to create an official role for the Wolf Prince within the Summer Court. The role of Lupine Vizier – a part of the Royal Family – so that Wolf issues are looked after at the highest levels of government.”

“Oh, Logan!” Breena smiled at me. “Isn't that wonderful?”

We hugged – awkwardly, at first, but then naturally. A hug full of friendship – and yet one, at last, that was free of lingering desire. A hug that promised a new relationship between us.

“Promise me,” Raine said to Breena. “That you'll have a big wedding! I'll do my best to come back for it. Both of us will. Or else you'll have to have a second one in the Mortal World. And Rose and Alistair – that will be the next wedding, won't it?”

Rose turned a darker shade of scarlet. “It's....awfully early, your Highness.”

I couldn't resist feeling jealousy prickle down my spine – involuntarily. Oh no, Logan, my subconscious chided me. Not this again...

As I walked out the door, I caught snippets of Raine's conversation with Breena. Curiosity compelled me to stop and listen.

“Logan is a wonderful man,” said Raine. “But Kian...he's the one, isn't he?”

“There were so many reasons for us not to be together,” said Breena. “Summer and Winter, warfare, struggle – and yet, we keep finding our way back to each other. In the end, love found its way back to us. No matter what.”

“And Logan?”

I couldn't resist pricking up my ears at the sound of my name.

“Things are going to be interesting around here, I bet,” said Breena. “Especially with Rose heading up the Department for Lupine Research.”

“You don't mean...”

“She'll be in charge of teaching the Wolf Fey to harness their magic. And somehow, I think she'll be harnessing a bit of her own power in the process...” She began to laugh. “It will be hard – at first. But I'm happy for him. And a little bit excited.” She sighed. “It's time for a new start,” she said. “For all of us.”

A new start. For Kian and Breena, for Feyland, for Raine and Frank Flametail.

“Rose!” I called. “Wait up!”

And maybe, just maybe, a new start for me.

*****

This is the end of Bitter Frost: Fairies of Feyland

Stay Tune for a new series featuring Logan, Rose, Kian, Breena, and some special mortals in the mortal world, a few years later in:

BEYOND CRYSTAL RIVER

Fall 2013

A FINAL WORD

Reasons Why?

I get asked this all the time, why do you interact with your readers so much?

1) The answer is simply because I see many of my readers as friends.

I’m a reader, too, and over the years, I’ve gotten to know some of you through Facebook, Twitter, or even at events I’m participating in. You have read my books, understood the story, and have come to love the characters in these stories as much as I do.

Over the years, I’ve gotten to know many of my readers. I share your pain when you lose a love one, congratulate you on victories, go through your birthdays and dramas at home and work. So you see, in other words, a lot of my readers have become friends of mine. You read my books, and even understand me like a friend understands a friend.

2) I know how reading can be time-consuming so I am pretty happy when a reader Facebook me and tells me she just read one of my books and she knows she'll be one of my biggest fans. I can't tell you how incredibly touched I am when someone tells me this. It literally brings tears to my eyes.

Not only does this feel incredible, and I am truly honored, but I want my readers to know from the bottom of my heart, this:

3) You Make Me, an Author, feel Warm and Fuzzy, too!

When you love my books and even reach out to me to let me know how much you love my books or that it has touched you in some way, and even write a review about it, you can’t imagine how happy that makes me. I’m only human you know. It makes me feel good about what I'm working hard for.

4) My Readers are Not Only Interesting, but they are Fun, Smart, and Great to Hang Out with!

So, please don't be a stranger. Come on by and say "Hi" on Twitter, Facebook, or my blogs. And become a Facebook friend of mine and vice versa. I really do want to find out more about you, and consider it a great honor that you're a reader of mine.

From the bottom of my humble heart:

THANK YOU!

And if you enjoyed reading this book and want more books like this one get published, support this book and author by Letting others know.

Positive reviews and word-of-mouth is very much appreciated, too.  And you never know, if my publisher like your glowing review so much, you may find it quoted in the next book.

That’s one of the best support any author can ask for!

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Preview of Upcoming New Series

Loving

Summer

kailin gow

A hot YA edgy contemporary romance

Prologue

Rachel Donovan paused at the door to the room her brothers shared, steeling herself for the kind of chaos within. What was it about guys that they couldn’t live in any space that wasn’t knee deep in unwashed clothes? Okay, so maybe her own room wasn’t exactly perfect, but she was a sixteen-year-old girl. And she was meant to be the rebellious one. It was allowed.

She pushed open the door to see Nat and Drew still stuffing clothes into their bags for the summer vacation. Nat was a year older than she and Drew were, with short, deep copper hair, an increasingly muscular build, and a good three or four inches in height on either of them. Drew was handsome, built like the athletic star quarterback he was, with jet black hair that would have matched Rachel’s except for the purple streaks she’d run through hers, deep green eyes that did match, and those same high cheekbones. Even though they were only fraternal twins, people always commented on the similarities. But the difference was he was tall, almost six feet, two inches, and muscular, while she was average and not muscular.

The room was every bit as bad as she’d thought it would be. Worse, even, because now there were clothes strewn over the two beds while they tried to work out what to take with them, the rejects joining everything else on the floor. Rachel picked her way through it as she headed inside.

“Aren’t you two ready to go to Summer’s Aunt Sookie’s place yet?”

“What’s the rush?” Drew asked. Nat just shrugged.

“What’s up with you two?” Rachel demanded. “It’s like you don’t want to spend the summer in a Malibu beach house or something. Is the idea of spending days on the beach that bad?”

Drew shoved a few more clothes into the bag, stuffing them down into it hard. “It is when I have to miss football camp for this.”

“Like you and the other jocks don’t spend all year running into one another anyway,” Rachel shot back.

“This is a big deal for me,” Drew pointed out.

Rachel snorted. “Like you aren’t a shoo-in for some dumb jock football scholarship anyway. A few weeks at Summer’s aunt’s place aren’t going to hurt. Come on, are you really telling me that you’d rather spend the time playing football than on the beach talking to all the girls there?”

“I would if it means you’re going to be there in a bathing suit,” Drew replied. “There are some sights the world isn’t ready for.”

Rachel looked around for something to throw at her twin, couldn’t find anything suitably heavy looking, and settled for ignoring Drew instead. She turned to Nat. “What about you? What’s got you sulking here?”

“I’m not sulking,” Nat said. “I’d just rather be here.”

“With Chrissy,” Drew added from behind Rachel. Nat shot him a dark look.

“Why not?” he demanded. “I’ve only just hooked up with her, and now I’m supposed to just go off to Malibu?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Like you seriously think she won’t be here for you when you get back? You two are so into each other it practically makes me want to throw up.”

“Isn’t that your response to love generally?” Drew asked.

“This from the guy who seems to be making his way around every girl in our class?”

Her brother shrugged. “Can I help it if they all seem to want me?”

That got another eye roll from Rachel. “Arrogant, much?”

Nat stepped in, the way he always seemed to so that they wouldn’t end up fighting. It was no fun being a twin with a sensible older brother, sometimes. “Look, Chrissy and I are not in love, guys. Infatuated right now, yes. I mean we went out a few times but that’s about it.”

“Did you actually want something, Rachel?” Drew asked. “Or are you just here to make sure that we never finish packing?”

Rachel remembered and pulled out her phone, bringing up the photo that Summer had sent over.

“Summer’s aunt is going to be busy at her acting school, so Summer is picking us up herself. She sent over a photo so that we wouldn’t miss her at the airport. I’m kind of glad she did. She might have been my best friend, but I haven’t seen her in, like, forever. I wouldn’t have recognized her.”

Nat took the phone.

“She’s changed a bit,” Rachel said, and as her brothers looked at the photo, she watched for the moment when their expressions said they’d finally realized just how much Summer had changed. The slightly awkward thirteen year old in glasses, with braces and puppy fat was gone in the picture she’d sent, to be replaced by a chestnut haired, blue eyed beauty with a willowy body, delicately tanned skin and a perfect smile.

“Whoa,” Drew said.

“It’s quite a change, isn’t it?” Rachel said with a smile of her own, just to let her brothers know that she’d seen their faces. “Honestly, I’m not even sure if I can be friends with someone that pretty. I mean, Summer’s better looking than the queen bee in our school, so she’s probably turned into a total bitch.”

“Because all pretty girls are mean girls?” Nat laughed. “Looks like you’re going to have to get over the stereotype there, Rachel. Anyway, it isn’t even true. Chrissy’s beautiful, and she’s as sweet as anybody you could ever meet.”

Rachel took her phone back from him. “Because you’re into her right now. We’re see about that in a month.” She’d barely gotten her phone back when Drew snatched it from her. “What are you doing?”

“What?” Drew shot back. “I just want to make sure that I recognize her.”

“So it has nothing to do with the part where you think she’s hot?” Nat asked.

“What if it does?” Drew shrugged. “I’ve always… I’ve always thought she was kind of cool.”

Rachel gave him a warning look. She knew what her twin brother could be like. “Don’t you dare go there,” she said. “Summer’s one of my best friends. You are not just going to play with her and sleep with her like all the other girls you date. She’s off limits, Drew. I mean it.”

“You’d better listen,” Nat said, with a look that made it clear he wasn’t serious. “We wouldn’t want to be on Rachel’s bad side.”

Drew caught his cue neatly. “She has a good side?”

Why was it that her brothers always teamed up on her, Rachel demanded of any part of the universe that was listening? It was meant to be twins who teamed up on the rest of the world, wasn’t it?

“I’m serious, Drew,” she said. “I don’t want Summer getting hurt. Besides, I don’t think you’re even her type.”

“I’m not her type?” Drew said, looking slightly offended. Maybe it was just because he couldn’t believe that there was any girl whose type he might not be. “Well, maybe she isn’t my type. Had you thought of that?”

“She has a pulse, doesn’t she?” Nat asked, and was rewarded by Drew throwing one of the t-shirts for Sookie’s Acting Academy that Summer had sent over at him.

“He has a point, Drew,” Rachel said, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Right now, it seems like you’re interested in any pretty girl who looks at you.”

“That isn’t true,” Drew insisted.

Rachel shook her head. “All right then. Any pretty girl who’s prepared to sleep with you because you’re the star quarterback. You use them and then you leave them, and I don’t want Summer hurt like that.”

Drew finished shoving clothes into his back and yanked the zipper shut. “Why are you assuming that it’s always me?”

“Maybe because it usually is?” Nat suggested. It looked like he’d finished packing too, and he put his bag beside Drew’s. There were still plenty of clothes left everywhere. Rachel knew better than to wonder whether they’d do anything about them. “Face it, Drew, you aren’t exactly the kind of guy to settle on one girl. How many girlfriends have you had in the last year?”

Drew picked up his bag and grinned the kind of boyish grin that did a lot to explain why he’d worked his way through most of the cheerleading squad. “Plenty. It’s kind of hard not to when they’re practically throwing themselves at me.”

“Well then,” Rachel said with heavy sarcasm, “the break will do you good. With all those girls making life so hard for you, this will give you a chance to recover.”

Not that it made so much as a dent in Drew’s ego. He just shrugged. “I guess it would be kind of good to get away. Then, when I get back, the party starts all over again.”

Rachel sighed. There wasn’t any point even trying when it came to her twin brother, some days. “Yes, sure. Just finish getting ready, would you?”

“I am ready,” Drew insisted. He took another look at Rachel’s phone, then passed it back to her. “You know, it’s going to be good seeing Summer’s Aunt Sookie again. And that beach house of hers.”

“And Summer?” Nat added, obviously trying to stir things up between them.

Drew shrugged. “It’s going to be a great vacation any way you look at it.”

Rachel headed back to her room, looking for her bag and leaving her brothers behind. Right then, she was kind of thinking that the whole vacation might go a little better if she found a way to abandon them at the airport. It was probably the only way she was going to get any peace, for one thing. But it was too late for that kind of thinking. They were all going, and Drew was right about one thing. It would be good to see the old place again.

It would be good to see lots of things. Rachel took another look at the photo Summer had sent her. They’d stayed in touch online, but she hadn’t seen her friend face to face since they were both thirteen. Summer was her dearest friend, and she was happy to be seeing her again. She also hoped that Drew would listen to her warnings, because from what she remembered, Summer was fun, and different, and exciting, but also maybe a little too fragile to be treated the way Drew treated girls. She was embarrassed that Drew was the type of walking one-night stand guy their mom had warned her about.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for,” Rachel said to the photo, but then shook her head. Summer had always had a crush on Nat, though, ever since she was five years old. No one, no boy had ever been able to shake her out of her crush on Nat, so at least that was a good thing about Drew.

Rachel was looking forward to getting out of the dreary grey San Francisco weather and into sunny Malibu. Aunt Sookie’s Malibu pad had always been magical. It was where they can be anyone or anything they wanted. And at this moment, in the Donovans’ lives, they wanted to be anywhere other than here.

OTHER BOOKS FROM KAILIN GOW

The FROST Series

The PULSE Series

Wicked Woods Series

Desire Series

Steampunk Scarlett Series

The Fire Wars Series

Fade Series

Circus of Curiosities

You & Me Trilogy

Never Say Never Series

Alchemists Academy Series

Wordwick Games Series

Phantom Diaries Series

Beautiful Beings Series

Stoker Sisters Series

And More!