As I scanned the expansive second-floor balcony gracing the perimeter of the hall that afforded onlookers a bird’s-eye view, I idly wondered if there’d truly been that many fae watching with rapt attention that night as we stripped each other down the core in ways I doubted I’d ever experience again.
Shaking away the unsettling thought, I continued to look for his striking features.
Feeling a faint tug softer than a light breeze caressing my skin, my attention snapped to an archway leading out into the moonlit gardens beyond the vibrant hall just in time to see his form turn to shadows as he exited.
“Endymion!” I called after him.
He didn’t turn.
“Endymion!” I called again, descending the stairs as quickly as I dared in my dress.
As if the memory sensed my intrusion, countless fae turned their blank stares toward me as they flocked to the bottom of the staircase.
“Excuse me,” I said, as I tried to pass, but this only made the fae stand closer, forcing me to fight for every inch as I pushed my way through.
Clenching my jaw, I slowly slipped through, crawling on all fours at times to make any progress. Finally, I pushed past the last one and sprinted toward the archway, his silhouette smaller but still visible.
“Endymion,” I called out once more, and as I stepped through the archway, I tripped.
I fell face-first, barely catching myself in time.
Small pebbles embedded themselves into my little, fleshy palms, and I gritted my teeth against the sting, though my eyes burned nonetheless.
Confused, I shifted to see what I’d tripped on—something thatshould’ve been impossible given I’d known this cobbled road like the back side of my hand.
Seeing the reason for my bleeding palms, annoyance and indignation warmed my blood as I stared at the female who just lay in front of me like an abandoned toy.
“That hurt,” I groused. “Why are you lying just there?”
It took a moment to register that the words—and more importantly the voice—Too high. Too small. A child’s voice.
A lump caught in my throat.
Not just any child.
Endymion.
The world lurched as the truth settled into my bones. I wasn’t watching this memory. I was inside it. Inside him—seeing through his eyes, feeling through his body.
He’d shared this moment with me as we’d sat on the outcrop, high above the aquamarine lake. I’d never forget the distance in his gaze as past had swallowed him whole. And of course it had, this wasn’t just any day, it was the King Thaddeus Artimus Alton the Second had unleashed a great curse against the fae.
Sadness filled my heart as I sensed his confusion. I already knew what he was about to realize—how this would alter him—and I would’ve given anything to stop what happened next.
Only, like him, I was powerless against the past.
Conscious and unable to control the memory, I was stuck in his avatar, reliving the horror in real time as he experienced it.
Popping up to his feet, he crossed his arms and stared down at the female with consternation. “Get up. That wasn’t funny.”
Silence.
Confused, he knelt down. Shaking her shoulder lightly, he said, “Are you okay?” Coppery hair covered her face, and he tentatively tucked it behind her delicate ears.
I mentally gasped at what I saw through his eyes. The female’s irises were covered in a white film—like that of a dead fish—though,because it was something he’d never seen before, it took him an extra moment to understand the meaning of it.
Shocked, he fell back onto the gravel. Awkwardly catching himself, he ignored the fresh fiery pain that radiated through his palms as new pebbles lodged into his flesh. Terror gripped every one of his senses, and he scampered backward, halting the instant he felt soft silk under his tiny hands—the sensation revealing a truth his mind hadn’t quite caught up to.
He turned his tiny torso, taking in the finery of the male’s clothing before noticing he too was lying on the ground, face up, eyes filmy.
