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“How did you get here? Did you follow them, too? How do you know what they are or where we are?”
My mind works in overdrive, trying to piece everything together, but it feels impossible. I’m missing too many pieces.
“Did you say another realm?”
His brows pinch, and his lips pull down in a frown. My head throbs, but I ignore it, needing the answers they seem to have.
“Garrett brought us here to find you,” Sol answers before Lyle, and it’s probably a good thing. I know how little Lyle cares for Garrett—speaking of.
I untangle myself from around him, and for a moment, it feels as if he’s going to refuse to let me go. He doesn’t, but the look on his face lets me know how unhappy he is about it.
“Where is Garrett, or Storm, for that matter?” I question, looking around the room as if I might have just missed them.
The room’s no longer as dark, glowing with the soft light of a few candles off the side of the bed. Blair stands beside it, watching us, and I know he’s responsible for the flames. But even in the light, I still don’t find either of them.
“Garrett went to speak with the queen regarding a few things. He should be back any second,” Sol says, sounding almost sad.
I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong and where Storm is, but the door opens before I can, and Garrett walks in as if summoned.
His eyes go to the bed before he quickly scans the rest of the room, and a smile lights his face when they finally stop on me.
“Tiny!” He’s moving toward me, and I want to go to him, but I can’t make myself move.
That one word echoes inside of my head like a gong, and the pain cracks with it. I stagger back a step, clutching my head. I hear the guys moving, saying things, but I can’t make out their words through the ringing in my ears.
Someone grabs my arm to steady me, and another pair of hands grip my face. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed my eyes, but when I peel them open, Garrett stands before me, his eyes full of panic as his mouth moves without sound. My chest heats until I feel like I might burn up, but it’s not the same as when Harlow used her fire against me; this feels like it’s from the inside.
The pain reaches an unbearable level, and I can’t breathe. It’s enough that I pray for the darkness, anything to make it stop.
And then it’s gone.
Slowly, I blink, clearing the tears from my eyes, sucking in deep breaths as I look up at Garrett, and I remember.
I remember running through the castle with him, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, exploring the woods, and hiding from Corny. I remember him bringing me a slice of cake when I was alone and afraid and how he looked out for me—taking me away to special hiding places to escape the harsh words and cruel eyes of the villagers and guards. But most of all, I remember him. He cared for me, took me flying, helped me with my shadows, and almost died at the lake. The fear I felt thinking I was going to lose him and the bond that snapped into place when I saved him, unwilling to let him go because he was everything to me.
Fresh tears fill my eyes as my nightmare comes back in full force. Slamming into me with enough weight that my legs buckle, and I only stay standing because someone is holding me up.
It wasn’t just a nightmare, but a memory. The voice in my head was Garrett, begging me to survive, no doubt feeling the same way I did when he almost died in the lake.
His promise not to leave me rings in my ears as I look up at him—my first friend, my mate, who spent years looking for me and kept his promise.
“Garrett?”
Some of the worry on his face melts away, but he doesn’t release his hold on me, and I don’t want him to.
I’d felt a pull towards him from the first day I met him, one I couldn’t explain. Even when the guys warned me to stay away from him, I couldn’t. It was as if I was drawn to him, and now I understand why. He’s mine, and I am his. Something inside of me knew, even if I couldn’t remember.
The same way I was drawn by the wisps here to this realm, to my home.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? I’ll get the queen. She’s a wonderful healer. She can help you,” Garrett rambles, moving to pull away.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, but he doesn’t seem to hear me over his panic.
I reach up, laying my hand on the back of his to keep him in place, and he stops in his tracks. It’s the most contact we’ve had since he found me. Before now, I’d been torn between what I felt and what the guys wanted, but not anymore.
“There’s no need to worry, your mother. I’m fine—more than fine, really, I promise.”
His eyes narrow, and I watch him as he replays what he just said to see if he mentioned his mother.
