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October 10 - October 16, 2025
Now she found herself in a thick forest, and the beautiful man was here. His silver hair was the color of her own as he walked silently beside her.
Veda stabbing Cassius. Nuri bleeding out. Mikale taking her in an old office. A prince sleeping before a fire. Plunging a dagger into Juliette’s heart. A friend stroking her hair to help her sleep. A dark shadow leaping the rooftops with her. Golden eyes staring into hers. A star going out. A Prince of Fire. She gasped, her eyes snapping open, her hands clutching at her chest.
“Open your eyes, Lady of Darkness. See who answers to you.” Scarlett slowly opened her eyes and before her stood a panther. She was sleek and beautiful and her muscles shifted under her gleaming coat of shadow and darkness and night. “Shirina,” the man whispered reverently into her ear. “Lady Saylah’s servant.” Saylah. The goddess of shadows and night. The goddess who was often whispered of along with her brother, Temural, the god of wildness and untamed adventure, and their parents Arius, the god of death and darkness, and Serafina, the goddess of dreams and stars.
The panther slunk forward and brushed against Scarlett’s side. Scarlett tentatively reached a hand out and ran it along her back, feeling those powerful muscles under her fingers. “It will be time to wake soon,” the man said quietly. “It will soon be time to face the shadows.” “I’m not ready,” Scarlett whispered. “One never is.” His cool, low voice sent shivers up her spine every time he spoke.
The man sank down to the ground next to her, propping an arm onto his bent knee. From the trees, a giant eagle swooped down and came to rest on the same arm. He gently stroked the bird’s head. “Go and face your shadows. Then it will be time for us to meet,” he said, his voice impossibly gentle.
The beautiful man beside her was quiet for so long she thought he had gone back to just being a silent presence, but then he spoke. “True strength, Lady of Darkness, is being brave in the hard seasons. True strength is getting back up one more time. True strength is believing you were made for such a time as this and fighting against all odds. True strength is having hope even when the stars go out.”
“Are you real?” Scarlett finally asked after several more minutes of silence. “Or are you just a dream?” “Are reality and dreams mutually exclusive?”
Finally, flames and ice stopped appearing. Finally, she slept. Shadows still swirled around her, but they seemed to have lessened.
Briar was still sprawled on the couch, ice crackling at his fingertips.
“So the female?” “The female.” “She’s strong.” “She is.” “She’s Fae.” “She is.” “I’m going to need a little more here, Sorin,” Briar said, annoyance creeping into his tone. “You bring power like that into our Courts, I’m going to need some sort of explanation as to who she is.” “She’s my twin flame.”
Sorin held up his left hand to show him the Mark that adorned it, closing his eyes again. Briar swore under his breath. “She doesn’t bear a companion Mark.” “No, she doesn’t.” “Normally both parties choose the Mark,” Briar proceeded cautiously. “She is not normal,” Sorin replied simply.
“She is Eliné’s daughter.”
“I can’t, but she has this,” he held up his right hand that was still adorned by the Semiria ring. He heard Briar swear again. “She also clearly has both fire and water magic. Something unique to Eliné.”
“Done,” Briar said. He stepped through the water portal, and it snapped shut behind him.
Lying at the foot of the bed was a panther as dark as the shadows that swirled around Scarlett. The panther lifted its head as Sorin came into the room, a low growl escaping from it. “Shirina,” he breathed, bowing low. The goddess Saylah’s spirit animal
nightstand—just in time for Scarlett to lurch forward and vomit. His very soul ached for her. His twin flame. Sorin reached into the shadows once more and held her hair back.
“Do not go into her mind right now, Sorin,” Beatrix said softly. “Her mind and body and soul are in great turmoil. You must not add to it.” “But I could help her through it,” Sorin argued, his eyes returning to the female in his bed. “No,” Beatrix answered, shaking her head. “You do not know what you will discover there. It would be a great breach of trust. She has not yet accepted the bond. And with her magic? I do not know if you would come back. She could unknowingly trap you there.”
“We will need her, Sorin. And you,” the Healer continued. “We will need what you two will become together, as well as what she will become on her own. Until she can control her magic and we know the extent of her power, you must act with diligence.”
The panther, seeming to accept that someone else was now present to watch over Scarlett, leapt to the floor, stretched with a wide yawn, and vanished in a flash of silver light.
In fact, they weren’t allowed in any part of the western side of the palace.
Eliza's hair was a brilliant shade of red-gold, and it hung in sweeping curls down her back. Tattoos that had not been there before whorled around her chest and down her bare arms beneath the sleeveless tunic she was wearing. Apparently, their absence was part of some glamour that was put on them in the mortal kingdoms. Callan didn’t quite understand it all. Weapons adorned her no matter where you looked. Her gray eyes studied him as she drew nearer. She was beautiful, yes, but also terrifying.
They had climbed a set of stairs and started down a hallway when a male stepped from smoke and ashes before them. Rayner. This one was Rayner. He would never forget the terrifying male with eyes that swirled like smoke.
The other male who had escorted them from what he assumed was Sorin’s chambers that day was now standing at the top of the stairs they had just climbed. He had golden eyes that were nearly identical to Sorin's.
A prince holds her heart. Nuri’s words from that day in the tavern clanged through him. He had arrogantly thought she’d meant him, but then he’d learned that Sorin was actually a prince. The Fire Prince. But she had been his once, hadn’t she? His Wraith of Shadows. Did shadows still trail her wherever she went? Did they still swarm her and flit around her?
The man had shoulder length hair that was so blonde it was nearly white, as if he spent every day in the sun. His eyes were the bluest she’d ever seen and reminded her of her own. He was muscled and built just like Sorin. He wore pants that hugged all the right areas and a loose fitting tunic that still managed to show off his chest.
She straightened and turned to look at the other man, but Sorin said in a low, commanding tone, “Here, Scarlett. Keep your eyes right here.”
Sorin stood right before her shield now. He placed a hand on it, as if placing his hand on a window. “Hey, Love.” Scarlett narrowed her eyes at him. “Hello, Prince.”
“You came for me?” “I will always come for you.”
Slowly, Scarlett brought her hand to the shield and placed her palm against his. The flames flickered a few times, then disappeared entirely. They stood there, palm to palm, eyes locked on each other. He certainly felt real, but so had so much else in her dreams. When Sorin reached to bring a hand to her cheek, she stepped back, out of reach. “This is real?” “This is real, Scarlett. It is not a dream,” Sorin answered gently.
Scarlett fell silent, tendrils of her shadows reaching out to the prince once more. Sorin didn’t move as they swirled over his chest, stroked down his cheek, coiled around his throat.
He had been her mother’s closest confidant. He had been her Cassius. And he was responsible for her death.
Breathe, her shadows whispered to her, curling around her ear. Breathe, Lady of Darkness.
In a flash, she had pulled the dagger from her belt and flung it across the room. It flew by Sorin’s face, slicing a shallow gash along his cheekbone, and embedded in the still half open entry door. Brair's eyes were wide, but Sorin merely smirked at her. “You missed."
“So you do not hate me enough to want me dead then?” Sorin asked. “Oh no, Sorin,” she purred, slowly closing the distance between them. The corner of her mouth kicked up into a smirk when she heard his heart rate jump. “I definitely want you dead.” She brought her hand up and ran her finger lightly along his face, brushing back a lock of his dark hair. His eyes darkened a shade at the touch. She ran her thumb sensuously over his bottom lip as she said softly, “I just haven’t decided how thoroughly I want to break you before I end your life. Where can I bathe?” He held her stare as she
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The desire coursing through his veins from her fingers on his skin…gods. If Briar hadn’t been in that room, he would have been all over her. He would have risked that wrath and that darkness. She was a storm he didn’t know that he’d survive.
She stood at the edge of the tub near the steps. She still wore his shirt and some primal part of him gave an internal satisfied smirk to see her in it, covered in his scent.
Realization slammed into him. Sorin closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. He took her face between his hands and said, “Scarlett Monrhoe, you are allowed to leave this room, these chambers, this palace, whenever your heart desires. In fact, once you have learned to wield your magic, you can leave these lands whenever you desire. You are no one’s object to be kept in a room.” Those icy blue eyes locked onto his. “You’re touching me,” she whispered. “It’s a necessity,” he answered. A single tear slid down her cheek, and Sorin gently wiped it away with his thumb. She leaned forward,
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“I hate that you made me hate you.” “I hate that I did that too,” he managed around the lump in his throat. “I wish I didn’t hate you because I need you, and I can’t have you,” she whispered, and she pushed herself away from him. He’d been wrong. He couldn’t take it as he watched her walk away from him and back into the bedroom.
“The Fae Queen?” “Yes.” “You can say her name here?” “Yes.” “I’m really not in the mood to have to pry things out of you,” Scarlett said, exasperation heavy in her voice. “Talwyn. Her name is Talwyn Semiria. She would also be your cousin, I suppose.”
“I told you. Talwyn and I do not always…agree on matters. My allegiance, Scarlett Monrhoe, is to you, as it was to your mother. I told you I would not leave you alone, so I did not return without you. If you do not want to rule or be queen, that is fine. The choice is always yours, but I will always stand in your court. Always.” “What if I do not want a court? What if I do not want to stay here?” “Then it will be just you and me.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. His hand still stroked her hair and his other arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him. “You’re touching me,” she said from where her head rested against his chest. “If I could lie to you, I’d tell you it was a necessity, but it’s not. I just wanted to hold you,” he answered. “And if I told you I wanted you to touch me more?” she whispered. She started tracing one of those tattoos on his chest with her finger, slowly following the swirls and whorls of it. His hand stilled on her hair. After an extended silence, he pushed out a long breath. “I
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When Scarlett opened her mouth to him, he groaned, and the sound rumbled through her as his tongue swept in, and she tasted his cloves and honey flavor. Again, that lush smokey smell mixed with his ash and cedar scent. She pulled back, breathless. “You said Fae can scent emotions and other things.” “I did.” His voice was gruff, and he was breathing as fast as she was. Then the scent that sometimes mixed with his was…arousal. A slow grin formed on her mouth. “That could be a useful tool, Prince,” she crooned.
When he reached for the handle, though, she spotted the tattoo on his left hand again. It snaked down his thumb and forefinger, and it seemed incomplete somehow, like he’d had to leave in the middle of it. “You never told me the story of this,” she said, reaching out and running her fingers along the dark lines etched into his skin. Sorin stilled, watching her trace them. “It is a Fae Marking, a tradition of ours.” “It seems unfinished,” she replied, leaning forward to study it more. “I suppose it does.” “Why?” she asked, her eyes flitting up to his. “Because I do not know how it will look in
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He couldn’t decide where she was going with this. He had learned where to look to read her emotions over the past few months. How her fingers curled when she was irritated. How her nose scrunched when she was confused. How her eyes narrowed when she was not impressed. How they shone when she was blissfully happy, although he’d only seen that a handful of times.
“I still… I’m sorry. No child should ever have to see their parent be killed, let alone in such a gruesome way. What that does to a child…” She trailed off again. “I wasn’t exactly a child,” he replied, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “Yes, I was young by Fae standards, but I was several decades old.” “Still… I’m sorry.”
“You are unexpected, Scarlett. I was sent to find a weapon I did not believe existed. Queen Talwyn invoked something called the Blood Vows of the Courts. During a queen’s rule, she is allowed to use the vow once with each Court she rules over. The vow requires the prince or princess to obey a command of her choosing without question. I was forced to go. You know our relationship with Talwyn is strained and when they learn that you are that weapon, when they learn what you are…”
She looked at him, almost as if seeing him for the first time. Those shadows of hers stroked down his cheek.
“Cassius?” Callan blinked, and he let his anger blurt out the next thing he said. “Ah, Cassius. The fourth piece of this equation. Tell me, Scarlett, which of us do you love, by the way? Or do we all serve your purposes in some way or another?”
“You are the first and only person I have ever given myself to by choice,” she said with a venomous quiet. “Mikale, however, has also been between my legs, only he took what he wanted. About a year ago. Any other questions for me, Prince?”
Scarlett looked at Callan, her face hard. “I may have loved you once, Prince, but now I do not know what I feel for you.”
