I sit on the log and stare into the flames, replaying Thalia’s words. Find Kaelren. Get back to the present. Before we’re stuck permanently.
The weight of it settles on my shoulders. No pressure or anything. Just the fate of two entire worlds resting on me finding one broody fae male across multiple timelines.
Story of my life.
I hear a faint sound behind me.
I tense and touch the ground beside me, reaching for my marks. But nothing’s there. Just wind and sand and the crackle of the fire.
I let out a breath. “Get it together, Elle. You’re hearing—”
I’m yanked off the log so fast I don’t even have time to scream. My back hits the sand, the air punches out of my lungs, and a body is on top of me, heavy, pinning me down. I thrash. I claw. I try to bring my knee up into something vital, but whoever this is knows what they’re doing, trapping my legs with theirs and catching my wrists in one hand.
“Easy there, my little fighter.” The voice is low and rough against my ear. “I knew I would catch up with you, eventually.”
I stop thrashing. My heart slams against my ribs so hard that it hurts.
“Kaelren?”
Hope floods through me. Stupid, desperate hope. I look up into silver eyes, dark features, the sharp line of a jaw I know better than my own. For one beautiful second, I think it’s him. My Kaelren. The one who held me, who chose me, who let the corruption take him to save me.
Then I see the corruption. It covers nearly ninety percent of his body, writhing, pulsing in patterns I don’t recognize.
The way he’s looking at me is wrong. This isn’t how my Kaelren looks at me. No warmth buried under the intensity. No tenderness hiding behind the control.
This is possession. Pure and simple.
“Ughhh.” I drop my head back against the sand. “Why can’t you be the broody asshole I need instead of… you?”
He looks at me, confused. “What did you do with my crew? Why are you out here all alone?”
“Because I’m not your Elle, idiot.” I try to shove him off, but he’s built like a damn wall. “I hear my vigilante self is running amok around the woods from what I can tell. Probably hunting your ass if I had to guess.”
He stares at me for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes. Then he grunts and says, “Playing hard to get, I see. Don’t worry, you shall be mine once you finally get over this silly notion of yours.”
“Excuse me, I belong to no one.”
He chuckles, low, dark. “Goddess, I love that fiery spirit of yours. You have no idea how much it turned me on last time I saw you. You shot me with that arrow.”
“Jesus, Kaelren, I love you, but this version of you is a little psycho. No wonder I shot you. Glad to know I still have my wits about me.”
He leans down, sniffs my neck, inhaling deeply. I’m simultaneously appalled, grudgingly aware of how good he smells. Damn these fae males. Their stupid pheromones.
“Want to go another round like we did in the tavern a few months back?” he murmurs against my skin. “I still keep thinking about those little sounds you made when I—”
“Whoa, buddy, enough.” I plant both hands on his chest and shove. He lets me push him back this time, sitting up with that infuriating smirk. “Let’s slow down a little.”
He studies me. The smirk fades, replaced by something more calculating. “Something is off about you.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
His eyes narrow. “Who is this Sherlock? Do I need to bust his face in for messing with what is mine?”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, massaging the migraine this man, no, fae male, is giving me. Why do they all have to be so barbaric?
“Let’s try another tactic. Why are you out here?”
“Easy. We received word you were spotted in the area. Auradelle had been alerted as well. He’s been spreading mass plots of rot to help suss you out.”
