Vale of Dreams (Fey Academy for Spies, #2)

by C.N. Crawford

In the frozen night, cold wrath climbs over my skin like hoarfrost, a rime that glazes my soul. Tonight, I find no solace in the dark. I wander silently among a garden of thorns. Let vengeance’s flame guide me through this desolate path…

“There’s only one woman for me, and she is a figment of my imagination, a voice in my thoughts.”

Behind me, the gentle snapping of a twig makes my heart jump, and I turn to see a stag standing between the trees, his breath misting around his face. He’s pale white, almost ghostly. I go still, and the stag stares back at me, nostrils flaring. He runs off into the wintry woods again, kicking up snow behind him.

But where did she get the iron? There is no iron in Brocéliande. The only people who might have it are likely to be working with me. But that’s a problem for later.