I touched my finger to the Briarwood ring. The stone glowed with warmth. The metal seemed to have grown tighter around my finger. “I’m not touching you until I know for a fact this isn’t some fae trick.”
It smiled.
“So logical. So questioning. Such amazing hair.” It tilted its long, slim neck, sweeping around to take in the five guys. “And commanding a coven of beautiful men? You aredefinitelymy daughter.”
“We’ll let the DNA test confirm that,” I growled. “Unless ghosts can’t take DNA tests.”
“I’ll happily take any test you ask of me, my darling Maeve. I’ll walk over coals if it means I could hold you in my arms?—”
Horror clawed at my belly as the apparition’s words cut off with a hacking rasp. It’s eyes rolled back in its head. It toppled forward, the body (that appeared solid now) crumpling as its forehead slammed against the dirt. I screamed and darted back, my heart pounding against my chest.
“Aline?” Corbin cried, rocking forward to reach for it. I grabbed his arm.
“Stay back. Don’t touch her!”
Her.
My mother.
But it’s impossible.
I stared at her crumpled form, half expecting her skin to melt into a puddle, or ugly black spiders to crawl out of her white robes like they did in horror films. But she just lay still with her head and her arms draped at awkward angles.
She didn’t move.
My heart leapt into my throat.Why isn’t she moving?
CHAPTER TWO
TWO: MAEVE
As I watched the not-ghost’s lifeless body, Rowan crept forward and picked up the corner of her sleeve between his fingers. “Don’t touch her!” I cried, terrified she might place some spell on him.
Rowan leaned close to her face, his dreadlocks spilling over the ground. ‘She’s breathing, so that’s good. Do ghosts breathe?”
“Um, I’m not sure.” Corbin brushed the curtain of hair off her cheek. I braced myself for something horrible to happen to him, but nothing did. “Aline, are you okay?”
“Is she…” I choked out.
Is she dead?I wanted to ask. But the words were ridiculous because we were talking about my mother, who was already dead. My eyes drew to the cuts on her face, drawn in lines down her forehead and cheeks like…
…likeclawmarks.
“Aline?” Corbin rolled her over onto her back, cradling her face in his lap. Her body flopped like a ragdoll. He held up her wrist. “I can feel a pulse, but it’s faint.”
How the hell can she have a pulse? She’s dead.
Rowan touched her face, murmuring under his breath. “She’s in some kind of catatonic state,” he said. “I think it's a side effect of the spell’s reversal.”
“What do we do?”
“We take her back to Briarwood,” Corbin said.
I shook my head. “Not happening. We don’t know what she is or why she’s here. It’s not safe.”
“It’s the safest thing we can do. You want to know if she’s a fae? Well, trying to take her through the wards is as good a test as any. We can’t just leave her in this field for the local farmers to discover. It wasn’t that long ago that she was the mistress of Briarwood. People will recognise her. They’ll ask questions, like why she hasn’t aged in twenty-one years.”
I glanced down at the serene face of the woman who looked just like my mother. “She needs a hospital.”
