Hesitantly, Luna extended her hand. The water curled around her like a living thing, bending its path to avoid her. “Is there really a need for such magic?” Luna asked, trying to gather as much information about this place as she could.
“See the trees in the distance?” Damien gestured. “That’s the Forest of Endlessness. There are worse things than the fae in there. This waterfall sends a message—don’t trespass.”
The home beyond the waterfall was unlike anything Luna had ever seen. Vibrant pink roses climbed every surface—windows, walls, even rooftops—so thoroughly that only hints of white wood peeked through, like bones beneath vines.
They walked up the marble pathway, but before they reached the door, it swung open. A man stepped out with unnervingly elongated fingers, gripping a glass filled to the brim with a bright, smoky blue liquid.
“Damien! There you are,” he called gleefully, his voice muffled, sounding unlike anything she’d ever heard. It was almost as if his voice was wrapped in layers of whispers.
He clapped Damien on the back, spilling drops that hissed and smoked when they hit the ground.
Damien chuckled, returning the gesture. “Here I am.”
The man’s stormy blue-grey eyes turned to Luna, and a wave of unease rippled through her. In his gaze was the stare of a thousand lost souls, but his wide smile was disarmingly warm, though largely hidden behind the bushy red beard that took over his face.
“And this exquisite beauty must be Luna.” His words were sweet, but his voice carried a false enthusiasm. The same forced politeness one might use to compliment a less-than-cute baby: too high-pitched, too eager to be believed.
Luna brushed her ruined fingers through the uneven strands of her hacked hair. The wordbeautydid not belong to her anymore. Pretending it did only made the weight of what she’d survived feel heavier.
“This is Felix, one of my oldest friends,” Damien said, stepping in. “He and Winta own the property.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Felix said, grinning. “Please, come in.”
Luna’s eyes flicked to Damien. There was something deeply unsettling about Felix, something she couldn’t quite place. “What are you?” she blurted, too tired to catch the words.
Angie would’ve scolded her for that; the thought made her chest ache.
Felix didn’t appear fazed, and answered simply, “I’m asithras.”
“A what?”
“A Guardian of the Portal,” he said, bowing slightly, “at your service.”
He said it so convincingly, Luna almost believed him. But Damien’s arched brow suggested otherwise.
“Like Everett?” she asked.
Felix’s smile faltered. “I’m nothing like that stick in the mud.”
“You aren’t a guardian either, Felix,” Damien added dryly. Leaning closer to Luna, he clarified. “Sithrasare souleaters. He clears the minds of humans before they return to Ghelvina.”
Luna’s stomach churned. Her gaze darted back to Felix, to his elongated fingers. Were they used to pluck memories?
“Now, why you gotta cut down my dreams, man?” Felix retorted, giving Damien a playful nudge, seemingly blissfully unaware of Luna’s discomfort. “You know I’d make an excellent guardian. I know more about the humans than anyone on that Council.”
Damien shrugged. “As true as that may be, we can do nothing to change it.”
Felix protested, swinging his drink in the air as he spoke. “What’s the point of you being a prince if you can’t twist the rules for your friends?”
“If I could, I would,” Damien said flatly. “But, even royal princes have limits.” He leaned close to Luna again. “Guardian positions are passed through the bloodlines. Everett will eventually hand it to his daughter, Winta.”
“It’s simply not fair,” Felix grumbled miserably, stepping aside to gesture to the open door. “But enough of that, come on in.”
Inside, glowing vines lit the grand entrance in soft green. Flowers hung on the walls, framed like artwork, arranged into elegant shapes and figures. Off to the side, a stair split up and down. Luna stepped onto a plush rug stitched with petals, her eyes scanning the rooms.
To her left, a large couch sat in the living room with burnt-orange pillows. A curved table rested in front of it. On the far wall, a low flame burned in the fireplace, its mantle cluttered with potted plants and neatly stacked books. Opposite that was a formal dining room, the table set with a glass vase of sand and stones arranged in a circle.
Silently, Luna made note of the windows and doors, sketching a blueprint in her mind in case Damien’s plans came together before she reached Nina . . . in case she needed to run.
