Page 145 of Fallen Court

I held out a hand to stop her. “Roark is on that.”

But she moved past me. “You wouldn’t sit here if you understood what I meant.”

“What is she?” I demanded, my temper lashing out in waves of shadow.

Willow backed away from me, but the expression on her face turned to one of reverence as she answered, “An icon.”

“A what?” The shadows settled, deciding, like I had, that she had a few screws loose.

“My family’s grimoire speaks of an age to come when all creatures will be tested in the face of great chaos.” She paused as if waiting for me to laugh at her, but I didn’t feel amused.

Chaos.

The word held me to the spot.

Willow studied me for a minute before she sighed. “Many years ago, a witch from our oldest bloodline mated with a fae and produced a child. The union was forbidden.”

Somehow, that didn’t surprise me. Even now, fae and witches rarely mixed, and offspring? That was completely out of the question. A coven would see to that by any means necessary. I wondered if she would have deigned to help Cate if she had walked into her shop without her glamour. “Your people have always been a tad backward about that kind of thing.”

“They have,” she agreed. “The lovers were sought out and killed.”

Thankfully, that was less common nowadays, even if the old biases ran deep. “And the child?”

“Disappeared,” she whispered. Her hands twisted like she was fitting together a puzzle. “And not long after that, the bloodline was wiped out entirely. The child is all that remains of one of the original three sisters. Even now, with magic returned to our veins, we are incomplete. Our power remains fractured, only a shell of what it could be.”

I was starting to understand. “And you think it’s Cate.”

“I hope it is.” An undercurrent of desperation bleated in her voice. “The prophecy in the grimoire stated that during the time of chaos, icons would rise. Creatures with different powers running through their veins. More powerful than the rest of us because they could draw off multiple magics.”

Something clicked into place. I stared at her. “But if that’s true, then every baby born from a familiar and a vampire would be—”

Her smile told me I was right. She pressed a single finger to it. “Why do you think the witches agreed to be subjugated? It wasn’t a matter of protection; it was a matter of survival. It is our most carefully guarded secret. If anyone knew that I had told you…”

Even now, as she spoke of mixing bloodlines and forging new magics among our various species, the old prejudices held her captive.

I bowed my head. “It will die with me.”

Something that was likely to happen soon if she was right about the other shit.

“Damn right it will.” Willow crossed her arms. “You suspected Cate was fae, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

But Stacia—Calista—had disappeared, too, and she wasn’t a witch. Calista, who hadn’t even returned while the world was falling apart. Who hadn’t shown up when her throne had fallen. I could think of few things worth sacrificing that much for—but a child might be one. Had she died to save Cate? Hidden her away, waiting for the right person to find her? For me to find her? “How long ago did this child disappear?”

“About a hundred years. If it’s Cate, if she was kept in the Otherworld—”

“After her parents’ deaths,” I finished. It made a sick sort of sense. The child would have aged slowly until she was finally taken to Earth. She might have been young enough to have no memory of our world. She might have believed she was human.

It was possible. My mate remembered little from her childhood.

I shook my head. “The ring wasn’t just for some random spell. It was a signet—the signet of the heir to the Terra Court. You’re wrong. She isn’t your missing princess. She’s mine.”

“Maybe,” she said, to my surprise, her arms tightening around her stomach. “But somebody unbound my spell. Whatever she is, she is exposed. So, I have to ask: Do you know where your princess is?”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Cate

I wasn’t certain which one of us was more on edge. It was a bad sign that my first attempt at wedding dress shopping was set to end in day drinking. I didn’t bother trying to talk. I barely even noticed Ciara’s terrifying driving. I was too lost in my own head, but there was no way to sort through it.