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Everything clears, and it strikes me in a rush what this is.
It’s a vision.
My very first.
CHAPTER11
Fae all supposedly have the Sight, the ability to see things that aren’t right in front of us. It’s what Raven and Cain just did on the couch, to locate the Aurora Gem.
Some people say that all fae are connected, that we’re all just pieces of one great… spirit? Soul? Thing. Others say that you can see what will be or what was. Not just the present in other places, but the future and the past.
But I’ve never had the Sight. If I did have it, I’d be able to try to use it to find an Aurora Gem myself. I think part of it is that I lost my parents when I was young. I never had anyone to teach me. I’ve been operating as a human this whole time.
Sometimes, I wondered if it was just me. If I was… not enough, as a fae. If I was weak. I was trying to be human anyway, though, so what the hell did it matter, right?
But now, I’m definitely seeing something.
I feel like I’m not even in my body. Or rather… like I’m not connected to it. I’m seeing through a body, but I can’t feel it or control anything. I can only see. I think I’m floating?
Right up ahead of me stands a woman. She looks—a lot like me, actually. Tall, light brown skin, thick brown hair, an Amazon’s build. Snapping dark eyes. But she has this air of power and command that I’ve never had. This woman looks like the epitome of confidence and royalty.
Yeah. She looks… regal.
Of course, all of this could have something to do with the fact that she’s leading a whole damn army of fae.
My jaw would drop if it could do that right now. This army is huge. It’s clearly an important battle.
Is that me? Am I doing that? She looks just like me. I don’t see how it could be anyone else. But it can’t possibly be me. I’m a loner, I work by myself. I’ve never led anyone in my life.
Everything shifts, like looking through a kaleidoscope, and next thing I know I’minthe woman. We’re the same person. I’m still not in charge, I can’t control anything. It’s just a new perspective.
The two of us—or rather, me in this woman’s body, or her with me as a ride-along, it’s hard to tell—stand strong and raise our arm up into the air, and everyone seems to cheer in response. I can’t hear anything, for some reason. I can only see. But people are opening their mouths and seem to be cheering.
Am I saying something? I can’t tell if our mouth is moving or not. But people are reacting as if they’ve just heard a rousing, inspiring speech. Everyone’s wearing armor, including me. But I can’t see our enemy. I can’t even see where exactly we are. Are we in the middle of a field? In a city? This army of mine seems to be just on the bare ground with nothing but a vague background, like someone was doing a painting and hasn’t finished yet. There’s just blank canvas all around.
I’m standing above everyone, I realize. I’m either on some kind of platform or raised hill, something that puts me higher than everyone else. Or maybe it’s not literal but metaphorical. People looking up to me, viewing me as their leader, and having all this power. I don’t know what to do with it.
This person does though. Or this version of me. I can feel her. She’s got no room for questions. She’s doing what she has to do with confidence. Not confidence that she’ll win, but confidence that she’s doing the right thing. That this is what’s necessary, and she’s going to give every single bit of herself to it.
That level of dedication, of grit and strength, is inspiring. No wonder these people are cheering for her. Could I ever be like that? Could I ever be someone that people look up to? That feels a part of something, maybe even a leader of it, instead of alone and on the outside?
For some reason, my mind notices that she’s alone. Or I’m alone. We’re alone. There’s not three men around her. She’s all by herself. Even though she’s a part of something, she’s not one of the crowd, she’s not standing shoulder to shoulder with comrades. She’s just herself. Still alone, just in a different way.
That hurts a little.
Maybe this means I won’t end up with these men. Maybe this whole fated mate thing isn’t real or won’t take, or something.
The other possible option is that the men are dead, and for some reason that makes me feel a horrible, aching sadness need inside me. Maybe that’s why she’s fighting. Maybe it’s to avenge them. But that idea feels wrong. Not wrong like incorrect, but wrong like it hurts.
Something shifts again and suddenly I can feel my body again. My eyes are opening even as I start to realize they were closed. I stare up around me.
I’m lying on the couch, still in the towel, the three men hovering over me. Cain’s squinting, looking curious and analytical. Raven’s eyes are wide with worry. North looks confused.
“Kiara?” North asks. “You all right?”
I nod, wincing a little. “I… I’m sorry about that.”
For some reason, I want to smile. I just feel so happy staring up at the men. Like something is settling deep inside me, content. If I was a cat, I’d be purring.
