“Of course, my king. I won’t fail you.” I give him a sincere look as the hopefulness continues to rise inside me. Whether Isabel Sinclair is the female from my dreams or not, I’m starting to suspect my mate is no longer within the walls of Braemar. I’m starting to suspect she recently fled the city. Which means… even if Isabel isn’t the woman from my dreams, perhaps as Isearch for the Sinclairs outside the walls of Braemar, the gods will smile upon me, and I will encounter my fated mate.
The king exhales slowly, gives me an appreciative nod, and we exchange a quick farewell. To my surprise, as soon as he rounds the corner, I hear him break into a run. How curious. If he’s running to his quarters to reunite with Helena after a long day spent accepting tributes from the humans, surely she must mean something to him.
But I nearly break into a run of my own as I rush down the stone steps toward the banquet hall. Not to join in the revelry, but so I might make a quick exit.
Though I told the king I would visit Marlow Street tomorrow at first light, I see no reason to wait. The slightest possibility that my golden-haired mate might be in residence at 12 Marlow Street has caused an urgency to erupt within me.
I rush outside the castle into the courtyard, then I summon wings and surge into the cold night sky.
Even if I must scour the entire realm, I will find my mate.
The golden-haired female from my dreams will soon belong to me.
I will not rest until I find her.
CHAPTER 3
ISABEL
At this late hour,the forest should be utterly dark, but most of the vegetation, everything from the trees to the bushes and underbrush, is covered in multicolored glimmers of light. I cast a cautious look around as Papa ushers me down the narrow path. My mouth goes dry when several pairs of eyes glow in the darkness, staring straight at me. I pray whatever creatures are watching us are harmless, though I’m starting to worry our luck might soon run out.
We’ve been on the road for nearly a fortnight now. Sometimes we make camp in the forest, and other times we stay in small villages. Papa is certain that we’ll soon encounter a large town called Hollins that boasts several inns, which is why we haven’t set up camp even though night is quickly closing in.
What if he’s wrong about Hollins? Or what if we arrive only to discover it lies in ruins? That’s happened a couple of times since we embarked on our journey… we reached a large clearing in the forest that was supposed to contain a village, only to discover charred ruins.
I fight back a shiver and walk faster, trying to keep up with Papa’s relentless pace.
Then I hear it. For the first time since we fled Braemar, I hear Gideon’s voice in my head.
Where are you, my little moth? Isabel… where are you?
It takes all my willpower to suppress a gasp and keep walking. I don’t want my father to know what I just heard, and, gods, how I fear what it must mean. If I’m suddenly hearing Gideon’s voice after all this time, it most likely means the fae male is nearby.
I replay the words he just spoke in my head, and dread fills me. He’s never spoken my name before. Andlittle moth… well, my hair is the same gold as the sunmoths that live across the entire realm, moths that thrive in all climates.
My dread twists into cold terror. Not only does Gideon know my name, but he somehow knows what I look like.
Can he hear my voice too? It’s a harrowing thought, and I resolve to be mindful of what I say going forward. I won’t admit to Papa that I can hear Gideon. I won’t admit that I fear my fated mate, the fae male I am desperate to outrun, might be closing in.
When the lights of a town emerge in the darkness, I release a weary sigh. Papa nudges me playfully and smiles.
“Ah. There it is. Hollins. I visited this town several times when I was a young soldier. Come, daughter, and we will find lodging for the night.”
I nod silently and hasten toward the town, eager to escape the glimmering forest.Ussha, I recall. That’s what the glimmer that covers all the vegetation is named. It’s my understanding that ussha is the lifeforce that powers fae magic, and with its spread into human and orc lands, all manner of fae creatures have migrated with it, along with the fae themselves. I’ve heard numerous tales of fearsome otherworldly beasts roaming the forests, and I have no wish to encounter one.
Gideon’s voice comes to me again, and I almost trip over my own feet as surprise sweeps through me.
I’m searching for two runaway humans. A young woman and her father. By order of King Theron Frostborne, I must inspect your guest book.
Oh, my gods. By order of King Theron? Perhaps my father and I were spotted fleeing Braemar on the eve of Tribute Day, and perhaps the Winter King has tasked Gideon with hunting us down. My thoughts race as I try to piece the clues together. I want to believe Gideon doesn’t know he’s searching for a human female who is likely his mate.
And yet…my little mothsounds like an endearment. Yes, it could also be a taunt, but the deep, warm tone of his voice made it sound… affectionate.
My stomach plunges to the icy ground, and I bury myself deeper in my cloak as Papa guides us toward an inn that’s nestled between a bookstore and a clothing shop.
Papa casts a longing look at the bookstore, pausing to inspect the titles that are on display in the front window. My mother was a voracious reader, and I recall him surprising her with books on special occasions. Even now, years after her death, whenever he passes a bookstore or a merchant selling used books on market day, he always pauses to inspect the titles. I know he’s thinking of my mother, and I reach for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
“I’ve never seen a bookstore so large,” he says contemplatively. “Your mother would’ve loved it.” A sad smile passes over his wrinkled face.
