We burst through the tree line into deeper forest. The path was barely visible, winding between massive oaks and ancient pines. Aedan navigated it without hesitation, clearly familiar with the route.
His grip on me was getting stronger, tighter. I could feel the tension in his body, the rigid control.
“Almost there,” he said. More to himself than to me.
And then I saw it.
A tree. But not just any tree. A massive oak, centuries old, its trunk wide enough to drive a car through. And at its base, the bark was glowing. Shimmering with an ethereal light that pulsed in a steady rhythm.
“The portal,” I breathed.
“Hold on.”
Aedan ran straight into the light, and the world dissolved.
I was spinning, weightless. Reality itself seemed to twist around me, inside me, through me. It was the strangest sensation, being nowhere and everywhere at once, existing in the space between spaces. Colors swirled that I didn’t have names for. Time stretched and compressed. I couldn’t tell if we’d been falling for seconds or hours.
And then we hit ground.
Aedan stepped through, and my stomach rebelled immediately. I lurched in his arms, and he barely had time to turn me before I was vomiting on the stone floor.
Great. First impression in a new dimension: puking. Really nailing this.
“You’re fine,” he said, patting my back awkwardly. “You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. Portal travel is hard on humans. On everyone, really.”
I was absolutely not fine. But at least I was done throwing up.
He gathered me again, adjusted the blanket, and started moving. I managed to look around.
We were inside. A massive stone corridor stretched before us, lit by torches in iron sconces. Everything was gray and cold, cold enough that I could see my breath. The architecture was ancient, medieval. Arched ceilings, carved stonework, tapestries on the walls depicting battles and hunts.
We passed a window. I caught a glimpse of the outside world.
Snow. So much snow, white blanketing everything as far as I could see. Mountains in the distance, their peaks lost in clouds. A winter wonderland, beautiful and brutal. The sky was gray, promising more snow.
Duskmere. I was actually in Duskmere. In another dimension. In a werewolf kingdom.
But I couldn’t appreciate it. The pain was starting now, cramps radiating through my abdomen, my back, my legs. I whimpered, curling tighter into Aedan’s arms.
“Fuck,” I grunted.
“I know. I know. We’re almost there.”
We passed people, wolves I assumed. They stopped and stared as Aedan rushed past. I was dimly aware of their expressions shifting. Confusion at the strange woman in the arms of the royal physician. Then recognition as they caught my scent. Then hunger. Raw, undisguised hunger.
“Holy fuck,” Aedan muttered. And then he was running faster.
Footsteps behind us. More wolves, following. Not attacking, but following, drawn by the call I couldn’t control.
“Get back!” Aedan snarled over his shoulder. “She’s mated! She’s the prince’s mate!”
That slowed some of them. Others kept following, unable to help themselves.
We burst through a set of doors into an empty room, a bedroom maybe. Wrong room. Aedan cursed, spun, exited again. Morecorridor. More wolves now, a small crowd forming, keeping pace.
“PATT!”
Aedan’s yell echoed off the stone walls. Up ahead, a man turned. Tall, broad, blond hair, familiar features. He looked...
