Page 5

Ivy yanked my hand. “El, move.”

A bright light appeared around the bend ahead, and my brain went straight to headlights. “Car! Move!”

I ripped my hand from Ivy’s and shoved both sisters towards the grassy bank. Ivy caught Nora by the waist as she stumbled, and they scrambled up the slight slope. I turned after them, but my right foot hit the tarmac where the verge should have been. I lurched forward, throwing out both hands to keep myself upright, with the bank now several metres away.

“Elowen!”

Ivy let go of Nora and started towards me. “Stay there!” I called, but she reached the edge of the grass and thrust out her hand. I ran to her as fast as I could, my flip-flops slapping against the road, but I couldn’t close the distance. I was being pulled away, road and all.

“El!”

“No, Ivy! Stay there!”

Nora grabbed the back of Ivy’s dress with both hands. “Ivy, stop!”

“Let go!”

“Elowen said to stay here!”

“I am not leaving her!”

Ivy twisted against her, still reaching for me, and I ran until my lungs burned, but I didn’t get any closer. Pain ripped through my skull, my knees gave way, and the world warped around us. Ivy and Nora blurred sideways, then snapped back into focus, even farther away.

“No.” My ears hurt so badly I could barely hear Nora crying. She had both arms around Ivy’s waist now, bracing backwards while Ivy stretched towards me and screamed my name. White light flooded across everything, swallowing the hedges, fields and sky. “Ivy!”

I tried to get up, but my knees were stuck to the ground. The road shifted again, bringing me closer to them this time, and I reached for Ivy. Her fingertips were right there, but her hand blurred, and my fingers closed on empty air.

Then the world ended.

Chapter 2

Lady Elowen

It had worked. The woman now lying in my nest was crumpled on her side, her dark hair tangled around her strange clothing. One of her shoes had come off; the other remained on her foot, a flimsy thing unlike anything I had ever seen. Her dress—if one could call it that—ended shockingly high above her knees.

My heart beat fiercely, and my palms were damp as I smoothed my skirts. After months of careful planning, it was finally happening. I lowered myself to the floor beside my nest to look more closely at my other self. My counterpart. Hair had fallen across her cheek, hiding part of her face. I hesitated, then lifted a strand between my fingers and gently drew it aside.

My breath caught. It was like looking into a mirror made of flesh. Her hair, nose, and mouth were mine, as were the faint freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. I leaned closer, searching for a difference between us, and found just one: a tiny scar beside her brow. My fingers rose instinctively to the same place on my own face and met smooth skin.

My friend had spoken the truth. Somehow, this woman from another world might actually be my way out. She resembled me so closely that few would notice the difference. Perhaps no one would.

Nearly a year earlier, my scent-match results had arrived: ninety-eight per cent. Mother wept, my fathers opened a bottle from their private collection, and my sisters spoke of my extraordinary fortune. Anything above seventy-three per cent was considered an excellent match. Ninety-eight was unheard of, especially with five Alphas from the same Pack, yet it meant nothing to me.

I wanted to travel, to see the Temeria valleys in spring and the ice palaces beyond Rigarta. I wanted to cross the sea and spend an entire season somewhere no one knew my fathers’ names. More foolishly, perhaps, I wanted romance: silly gifts sent for no reason, letters tucked away and tied with my favourite ribbon, Alphas who knew which books I loved and remembered how I took my tea. I wanted to fall in love with a Pack whose home became mine because I had chosen it.

But duty left little room for dreams. My fathers loved me—I had never doubted that—but they believed every Omega needed the safety and support of an Alpha Pack. To them, joining a Pack of my own was simply part of the life ahead of me. I would be loved, protected and cared for, and with a scent match as extraordinary as mine, they could not understand my hesitation.

Only one person had ever asked whether I was happy. Whenever I expressed doubts, Mother dismissed them as nerves, while my fathers reminded me that my scent match was exceptional. Yet none of them knew the Stormforge Pack beyond their names, their House and their reputations. That was enough for them, but not for me.

Rumours began reaching me as soon as our match was announced: tales of their viciousness and callousness. For all their status, they possessed none of the qualities I wanted in my own Pack.

The door opened, and Lysa stood with one hand on its edge, her face pale. “My lady, we must go.”

I glanced towards the apparatus. “What about that?”

“I will take care of it, my lady.”

“Are you certain?”