ANNA
Anna Ainslan was an empath—a fact she’d learned as a girl when the emotional bombardment of strangers threatened to unravel her sanity. A man’s anger made her rage. A child’s scolding made her cry. A woman’s grief made her ache.
Her father had told her she was merely intuitive, but at the age of nineteen, almost five years ago now, she was ripped from that quiet existence in the north of Scotland. Unexplainable pain had dragged her through the mist into Luxoria.
Here, she’d finally learned what her empathy meant. It was the hallmark power of what Luxorians termed the children of Morgan.
Anna was a child of Morgan.
Morgan, the mother of this entire branch of magic, fed on blood and sanity. She was exiled for her desire for domination. She gifted her talents to Galadaine Manae to further his terrifying cause.
She didn’t just feel emotions. She could manipulate them. She could snatch snippets of the future. She could curl deep into the hungers of a person and coerce them to do her bidding. She could reduce an army to slaves.
Anna didn’t know if she possessed those darker abilities. Out offear of discovery, she’d never tried to coax obedience. Centuries ago, this magic was purged from the population. Anyone even suspected of possessing it was executed, all except for the Manaes—Sovereigns with irresistible voices, who saved themselves with the very magic that was to be their doom.
The magic was all but extinct now, so she had no idea why she possessed it. Anna was not of Manae blood. She was no one.
Her mere existence was a mystery.
Half pixie. Half mortal. A child of Morgan.
How had such a combination come to be?
No amount of research in this library had given her a clue, and the more she searched, the more isolated she felt. Not a single creature in this realm was like her. She was entirely alone. It wasn’t like she could ask. It would only raise suspicion.
Anna would not fare well if anyone found out. Only one person knew—her best friend, Maddy, who’d discovered it by sheer proximity—and she wanted to keep it that way.
But now…
Now she was face-to-face with Galadaine’s heir. Too much time in this man’s company and he’d certainly figure her out. It could ruin her life, and the worst part was that a strange, destructive piece of herwantedhim to discover the secret.
She was so tired of being alone.
On the ground floor of the library, Anna perched herself on one of the many tables made of giant slices of tree trunks. “You have me here. Do you have a plan?”
David paused his perusal of the place to glance her way. The tall windows let in midday sunlight that struck his fair hair in bits of gold and white.
The library was just like the rest of the Tree—arched ceilings, open spaces, and every unused surface covered in greenery. Books were crammed into shelves along the walls. A large spiral staircase traveled up several floors but also delved into the rootsof the Tree, leading to a dim maze of tome-filled bookshelves and crystal-lit alcoves for quiet study.
But here, on the ground floor, where sunlight fed the flowers and Luster sparkled in the air, the heir of Manae looked like a golden prince, slowly treading her way.
Too bad his voice could lure her to her doom.
Deceptive beauty.Dangerousbeauty.
Coming with him to the library had hardly been a choice. The thread of silky magic in his tone lured her to his side. It could probably lure her to do much worse than that.
But it wasn’t fair to judge him by a magic she also possessed. Anna had once heard it said that truly knowing a person required learning both the worst and best things about them. If the worst thing about him was his dangerous magic, what was the best thing?
Beyond that question existed something far more intriguing. A burning curiosity.
What would this man, the progeny of Galadaine Manae, be like?
He approached with soundless footsteps and stood before her. She sensed shades of interest within him, but the larger portion of his emotions was hidden in something cold, like an iceberg of which she could see only the tip.
He studied her face as if it was a problem he could solve. “You don’t like me.”
“I—I don’t know you.” She winced at the catch in her voice, betraying her trepidation.
