I stared at him. He’d made the hat move without touching it, like it was nothing. Like magic was as easy as breathing. Back home, I could barely control my power—and here he was, spinning enchanted objects with a flick of his finger.
One minute he was kissing me like I was the only thing that mattered. The next he was warning me not to steal from him.
The whiplash made my chest ache.
“I wasn’t going to steal it.” I crossed my arms. “Is that why the queen wants you? For the hat?”
He smiled and dropped into a leather recliner, stretching out like he didn’t have a care in the world. “As the queen’s spy, you should already know.”
“I’m not the queen’s spy.” I sat on the couch across from him. “How many times do I have to say it?”
“These walls are enchanted.” He spread his arms wide. “They don’t let evil pass through.”
“See? I’m not evil.”
“Because I told the hat to let you in.” His smile turned wolfish. “I need information. About you. About the queen’s plans for Caterpillar.”
My hands clenched into fists. “I told you—I don’t know anything about any of this.”
“We’ll see.” The wolfish smile vanished. His voice was flat now, all the playfulness stripped away.
He stood, crossed the room, and placed the hat on my head.
I froze. Not by choice—my body simply refused to obey. My eyes fixed straight ahead.
Then I felt it. Spider webs sliding across my skull, slipping beneath my skin, threading through my mind. Searching.
“Now,” he said softly, “you’re going to tell me everything I want to know. The queen always has a plan. Tell me her plan.”
Tears burned my eyes. Not from the pain—not yet. From the betrayal.
He’d kissed me. Held me like I mattered. And now he was ransacking my memories like I was nothing.
Pain split through my skull. I arched back, a scream caught in my throat. Something was inside my head—clawing, searching, ripping through my thoughts like pages torn from a book.
“I don’t know anything!” The words tore out of me. “I’m not a spy! I’m just a witch who can’t control her magic and touched something she shouldn’t have.”
And kissed a man I shouldn’t have.
My eyes burned. I would not cry in front of this man.
He studied me, no pity in his eyes. “A witch? From where?”
Something squeezed inside my head until the answer spilled out. “New Orleans.”
“New Orleans again?” His frown deepened. “There’s no such place in the Elder Dimension.”
Another wave of agony ripped through me. “Not here—” I gasped. “Louisiana. Earth.”
He went still. Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition? Confusion?
“Earth,” he repeated slowly.
He rubbed his forehead, pressing hard, like something was trying to surface.
“I was born near aspen trees…” His voice faltered.
He said it like a man remembering his own name after years of forgetting.
