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“I miss you so much, Ruby. And I’m so sorry.” I placed my palm against the glass. “We have a lot to talk about when you wake up, but I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.” I opened my eyes and stared at Axel, his dark features reminding me of Lucian’s. “You and I were never particularly close. In fact, we barely even spoke to each other, but I’m sorry for what I’ve done, and for what you’ll have to face when you wake Once Ruby starts to hurt.”
I looked around to make sure I was alone. “Ruby, I think something’s coming—something bad,” I whispered closer to the glass. “This realm is so beautiful and peaceful for the most part, but I had a vision, a strong one, about an impending danger. And I don’t know what to do.”
I swallowed, wishing so badly that I could talk to her. “I haven’t told anyone because they’ll have questions that I won’t be able to answer. They might panic. And if nothing happens, it’ll all be for naught.” I sighed. “But the real problem is that I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll screw something else up, like I did with you.” I paused for a moment, fighting to get a hold of my emotions.
“You managed to end the war brilliantly, just as I knew you would. But this”—I gestured to the glass—“this wasn’t the plan. I’m so very sorry. I wish you’d wake up so we could talk. I haven’t tried to figure out what the vision meant because you and I both know that could lead me down a rabbit hole.
“But I’m so torn. If I say nothing and nothing happens, then all will be well. But if I say nothing and something does happen, I would be responsible if someone gets hurt.” I placed my palm against the glass and rested my head on it. “This is what Enchanteds have to struggle with.”
Exhaling through my mouth, I tapped the glass and stepped back.
“I’ll see you both soon. Thanks for listening.”
I walked away, burying my hands in the pockets of my jacket. Talking to my friends made me feel better, even if they couldn’t hear. Maybe, if they hadn’t woken up before my next visit, I’d tell Ruby about Rumir and Lucian. Hell, she might even wake up just so she could hear more about the mess I’d gotten myself into.
The facility halls were white and empty, though from time to time, I'd see agents and nurses in gold or white-and-gold attire.
There were two other cities in this realm, and I wondered if they all had a thing for white and gold. One day I'd do some exploring, but right now, I was too caught up with finding my footing—and figuring out how to live with two mates.
Rumir hadn't visited me since our argument, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since Lucian had told me what happened. I understood Rumir’s resentment towards Lucian. He felt he’d been replaced. So his feelings weren't all that surprising, especially since he was the Goddess’s only child. But he was also stubborn—I could see that a mile away—and seemed to feed off of this feud between him and Lucian.
I’d hated to hear Lucian refer to himself as an experiment. He'd said he didn’t dwell on it, but from the way he'd spoken, I could tell it bothered him more than he let on.
I paused mid-step when I got to the lobby and spotted the fae who had been my agent when I’d first arrived. The human woman she was speaking with was a new soul. I recognized the look—the frown, the nervous gestures, the brown eyes searching desperately for something familiar.
She was listening to the fae, who was showing her a housing catalog similar to the one I’d been given to choose my house.
The other cities in the realm had recovery facilities like the one here, but it was best that a soul stays in the city she arrives at until she gets settled. Unfortunately, I hadn’t discovered that fact until long after I’d moved to the forest. Staying hadn’t been presented as an option.
The fae appeared to be explaining to the woman about her living options—in the city or in the Wanderer's Forest—but was totally oblivious to the panicked expression on her client’s face.
I hadn't noticed it when I was a new arrival, but now I saw that the fae wore a gold bracelet. That meant she was born here and didn’t have firsthand experience of dying and waking up in a new, strange world.
I had a thought then that made me turn around and head to the receptionist’s desk, where a petite satyr with ash-brown hair was typing away at a hologram keyboard while staring at a floating screen.
“Hi.” She greeted me with a smile when I approached her desk. “How may I help you?”
"I just have a question. The nurses who care for the souls while they are asleep wear white and gold, yes? And agents just wear white, like that fae?”
I pointed to the agent, and the satyr nodded. "Yes, that’s right.”
"How do I go about becoming an agent? I arrived here not so long ago, and I haven’t found my purpose yet." I touched my hand to my hair. “I'm an Enchanted, obviously . . .” We both laughed at that. “and I think I could really be of use around here as an agent. I'm really good with communicating with others, and I know how these new souls feel . . .”
“Say no more.” She held out a rectangular glass that looked like a tablet with a form on its screen. "Fill this out. We’ll call you soon to come in for an interview."
“Awesome, thanks so much.”
There were so many things I could do to improve this place. I knew, without a doubt, that I’d found my purpose. I only hoped the powers that be agreed with me.
The form took mere minutes to finish, and then I was out the door, feeling a lot less stressed than when I'd arrived. The satyr who'd introduced herself as Bryla after I returned with the form told me there were two open positions. I was the only one who’d applied for the agent post, so my chances of being able to help here were good.
“Natalie?” A man exited the facility behind me. "You're Natalie Blackwood, right?"
He had one green eye and one blue, both of them half-closed, and his left ear was decorated with piercings. He was tall and slim, but his exposed arms were toned. He wasn’t as bulky, as muscled, as ordinary wolves, and although he smelled like a wolf, there was something else, something different mixed in with his scent. It was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“I am, yeah," I answered.
He ran his hand over his short buzz-cut hair. “I’m Brian. I think we're cousins. Elinor’s my mother.”
