I circled higher, almost dizzy with the joy of no longer being soil-bound. After making several laps over the tops of the trees, I straightened and headed toward the deeper part of the forest, intoxicated by the freedom. Ulean was beside me, catching my mood, shrieking with laughter as she slipped beneath me, causing me to rise even farther. I responded, going into a nosedive, pulling up as she rushed in front of me. She leapfrogged behind me, and I made another dive beneath her wake. I couldn’t see Ulean, not unless I was dreamwalking with Kaylin, or when I was in the grips of the winds. But I could feel her, sense her presence, hear her on the slipstream.

We played tag, turning, wheeling through the air, caught up in the freedom that only flight can bring. In the past few weeks, the most precious thing in my life had gone from being my Pontiac GTO to discovering my ability to shift into an owl.

As much as I loved Grieve, as thrilled as I was to meet my father after all these years, nothing could quite compare with the rush and freedom of turning into an owl, of escaping the earth and leaving all my problems behind, even if it was for only a little while. I’d never before had anything remotely resembling the freedom that shifting shape brought to me. There were times when I enjoyed the change so much, when it felt so natural, that I wanted to just stay that way—fly off and never look back—but I couldn’t do that.

As the sun rose, here in the realm of Summer, I regretfully turned back to the tree where I’d shifted. Another few moments and it came into view. There was Check, standing below, waiting at attention. I screeched loudly, then slowly circled lower, taking care not to buzz him, until I landed on a fallen trunk nearby. As I began to shift back, I slipped, nosediving for the ground. I still hadn’t mastered a graceful return to myself—Check bounded forward and caught me, his arms lifting me before I could hit the ground.

Before I could say thank you, he draped the robe around my shoulders and then, with a flourish, said, “May I escort you back to the palace, Your Highness?”

He was so heartfelt, so gentle and yet so protective, that I couldn’t help but give him a graceful smile. “You may.” And so we returned to the Barrow, my need to fly assuaged for the moment.

Grieve sat up, yawning, as I padded across the cobbled floor to where Druise, my maid, was waiting. She was trained to obey, and she would have stood there all day if I had told her to. As I stepped into the steaming bath she’d prepared, she quickly moved forward to wash my back. I started to wave her away, but the chagrined expression on her face stopped me. This was her job. This was what she did. If I refused her help, I negated her worth.

I wanted to linger in the bath, but we had to get over to Rex’s place to watch the announcement that Regina had instructed us to. So after I’d lathered up and let Druise wash my back, I stepped into the towel she was holding and she wrapped me in the soft, warm fleece. I wasn’t sure what material it actually was made from. The cloth felt like terry cloth, but I knew it wasn’t.

As Grieve watched, she handed me clean underwear and black jeans. I slipped into them, then allowed her to help me into a cobalt blue corset top, leaning against the table as she laced it. Lainule had acknowledged that I didn’t have to wear a dress if I wanted to, but she’d put her foot down at tank tops unless I was going out on a mission.

“You must wear something that sets you apart.” Since nobody argued with Lainule, I had acquiesced.

And so, I agreed to the corset. Fashioned out of dyed leather, it was embellished with silver buckles and studs, giving me a badass but elegant look. The laces were black and silver. I wasn’t sure quite what I thought of it, though I was leaning toward loving it. I had, however, put the skids on letting Druise lace it so tight that I’d have a hard time running in it. After a few days, I’d discovered that it actually did a good job of supporting not only my boobs but my back.

I sat down at the dressing table, and the girl began brushing my hair.

“What would Her Highness like me to do with her hair this morning?”

I frowned, wanting her to just call me Cicely, but that was another thing I was going to have to get used to: being addressed in a royal manner. I felt like Cinderella must have after the happily-ever-after: new to the Court, out of place, and hanging on for dear life.

“Just let it hang loose, thank you.” I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but that would be the simplest and get the morning routine over with. I had balked at letting her put my makeup on for me, and while she brushed away, I quickly smoothed on foundation, powder, eyeliner, and mascara, then rubbed a little light gloss over my lips. By the time I finished, Druise was done with my hair.

“Thank you, Druise. You may go now.”

She curtseyed, turned, and left.

I pushed back from the vanity and turned to see that Grieve had emerged from the bed and was fully dressed. Of course, all he had to do was to focus on what he wanted to wear and, bingo, there it was. Today he was looking fine, in a pair of khaki cargo pants, with a royal blue V-neck shirt that showed off his biceps quite nicely.

I moved to him, and he held out his arm, slipping it around my waist and kissing me soundly. Glancing over my shoulder, I stared at the bed. It was so hard to believe that everything was happening so fast. Just a few weeks ago, I’d been in La-La Land, when Ulean had warned me that my aunt and cousin were in trouble. One phone call later and I was on the road, headed north, on a long drive up the I-5 freeway. And now…here I was in the palace of the Summer Queen, waiting for my new life to begin.

“What are you thinking?” Grieve asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Just…I’m watching things parade forward at a rate that boggles my mind. But no matter what, I’m with you, and that’s all that counts.”

And try as he might, that was all he could get me to say on the matter.

Everybody was waiting for us in the common room. We’d have brunch later on, so for now, we munched on a little fruit. As Peyton entered the room, I stopped short, staring at her. She looked so different.

Peyton was part Native American, on her father’s side. She was also half-breed when it came to her powers. Her father, Rex, was a werepuma. He’d just reentered her life after being absent for most of her youth. Her mother had made sure that none of his letters ever reached her hands.

Anadey—her mother—was one of the magic-born. Peyton wasn’t speaking to her right now. Anadey had tried to kill both Rex and me, and that didn’t go down too well, with Peyton or with the rest of us.

Usually, Peyton was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, with a ponytail. But today her hair was long and gleaming, and she was wearing a pair of black trousers, with a peach tunic that set off the warm glow of her skin. Tall and statuesque, she looked radiant.

Kaylin let out a low whistle, grinning. “Pretty lady.”

Peyton snorted. “If my business is going to open next week, then I need to start dressing the part.”

Before the house had burned, we’d gone into business together—with me opening Wind Charms, a magic shop with spell components, and Peyton starting up the Mystical Eye—a magical investigations firm. Now, of course, it was out of the question for me to have a business, so I’d turned the reins over to Luna and she would take my place at the Veil House, together with Peyton.

“Well, the way you look would inspire me to hire you.” I handed her a pear. “We’re just grabbing a little something to tide us over till we get there. As soon as everybody’s ready, we’ll stop at Starbucks, then head over to your father’s. If it’s still okay with Rex, that is.”

She slid into a chair and bit into the fruit. “Yeah, he’s totally fine with us barging in on him. But it’s cold out. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Myst and her Shadow Hunters are nearby.”

I shivered, folding my arms across my chest. For a few minutes, I’d been able to push thoughts of Myst to the back burner, but now they came rushing back, and all of the warmth seemed to drain out of the room. Sure, Rhia and I were taking the thrones of Summer and Winter. And yes, our weddings were coming up. But nothing in the world could change the fact that we had enemies on all sides, and they were all out to see us dead. With a small sigh, I picked up a peach.

As I raised it to my lips, something made me pause and I glanced down at it. There, wriggling out through the skin, was a worm. And in that moment, I had my doubts as to whether any of us would survive through the winter to actually see spring come again.

Chapter 4

New Forest seemed like a different town in the daylight. Oh, the snow and ice were everywhere, and there was a bitter, frosty chill to the streets, but the downtown area was bustling with shoppers. But on closer inspection, they were hurrying, their expressions drawn and tense, like they were looking over their shoulders.

The same way we are. But at least Leo and Geoffrey were asleep for the day, and we had enough people with us that we could handle day-runners.

Grieve and Chatter didn’t want to ride in the car. Along with a few guards, they would meet us at Rex’s alone. So I drove, with Rhia riding shotgun. Kaylin, Peyton, and Luna sat in the back. As I navigated the streets, it occurred to me that in a few days, this—driving—might be a thing of the past. Lainule said that after the initiation, I’d be learning to travel like the Fae. Apparently, there were ways of allowing half-bloods to use some of the full-blood powers.

“Why so solemn?” Luna asked, looking over at me.

I shrugged. “Just thinking.”

I should be happy. I should be thrilled. Didn’t every little girl want to be a princess? And didn’t every little girl long for a happily-ever-after with her Prince Charming? Then why was I on the verge of tears? I blinked them away, and then, shrugging, I forced a smile.

“Peyton, what did Rex say when you told him we were going to converge on his house for brunch?”

She laughed. “He said as long as we chip in for the groceries, he’ll cook.”

“How’s his leg doing?” Rhia asked.

Rex had been injured in a major skirmish with the Shadow Hunters. One of them had taken a chunk of flesh out of his leg, and without us he would have bled to death, if the Vampiric Fae hadn’t finished him off first. He was on crutches but healing up fairly quickly. Luckily there was no infection—Weres weren’t prone to them. But the wound had been bad, and he wouldn’t be fully back in action for a while.

“He’ll be off the crutches in a day or so—being a werepuma has its benefits, but he’ll probably have a limp for months. At least he lives in a security building.” She frowned, jabbing her thumb into her knee. After a moment, she let out a huff. “Mother called me yesterday.”

The car fell silent.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Rhia cleared her throat and turned around to stare at her. I had to keep my eyes on the road, but I peeked in the rearview mirror. Peyton didn’t look all that happy. I pressed my lips together, waiting. Anadey had tried to kill me. I didn’t have much empathy for the woman.

“She apologized. She was in tears. I told her to fuck off. She begged me to call her when I’ve had a chance to cool down.” Her throat sounded clogged, and I could hear the tears close to the surface, though Peyton prided herself on being the stoic type.

“Cool down? After what she did to me? What she tried to do to your father?” I shook my head. “That’s a lot to push to the side.”

Peyton glanced at me through the mirror, giving me a sharp nod. “That’s what I told her.”

We were outside Rex’s apartment building, and the Cambyra guards were there on the street, waiting next to Grieve and Chatter. It seemed odd to see them in the middle of the town, on the sidewalk, during the day. They had changed their outfits to mirror more of a military getup—cargo pants, button-down shirts…but there was no mistaking them for the magic-born or for yummanii.

We tumbled out of the car. Silently, Peyton led us to the entrance, where she punched the intercom button, spoke to Rex, and opened the door when the buzzer sounded. Half of the guards followed us in.

Rex lived on the sixth floor and so we took the elevator, while three of the guards took the stairs, scoping them out. I wondered if this was how it was always going to be—always being on the lookout for enemies. When—if—we defeated Myst, would there be another force on the horizon looking to take over?

The building was relatively new, and nice. The walls were a muted sage green, with white ceilings and soft hunter green carpets. Rex must have been watching out the peephole, because as we stopped en masse in front of his door, it swung open, and a sturdy, tall man with a ponytail that reached his butt and a grizzled scruff of a beard stood back to let us in.

“Baby girl!” Rex propped his crutches against the wall, opened his arms and Peyton fell into them, hugging him tightly.

“Daddy.” She smiled up at him—it had been only a couple of weeks since he had returned to her life. They had a lot of making up for lost time to do.

“You know where the remote is, Peyton.” He gestured to the living room. “Let me get the food. Luna, would you help me?” He nodded for her to follow him into the kitchen. Luna’s relationship with her family was more distant than strained; Rex seemed to sense her need to be included.

The apartment was still relatively unadorned. Rex had just moved in, and he had arrived with only a couple of suitcases and a backpack. Everything in the room had that new feeling, though it looked new from the thrift shops rather than from a department store. Utilitarian, the furniture was a mishmash of patterns, but it served its purpose and Rex seemed content.

We settled on the sofa and floor surrounding the TV, and Peyton tuned it to the local news channel. Grieve and Chatter stared at the screen, shaking their heads. Neither was comfortable around technology, and neither understood the appeal of TV. The guards had stationed themselves outside the door once they ascertained the apartment was safe.