Poke.Another jab, this time lower, making me arch my spine to avoid the razor edge. Warm blood trickled down my back where the metal had found flesh.
What if I died here? The thought of never seeing Enzo, Serenity, my brother, Steve, and all the others again turned my throat bone-dry. I blinked away tears; tears wouldn’t bring me any mercy.
I fixed my gaze on the soldier ahead of me, his pale hair gleaming like spun moonlight under the double suns, trying to focus on anything other than the growing panic rising at my throat.Enzo. Where are you?The thought consumed me, stealing what little calm I had left.Did you escape? Do you even know how to open the portal to come after me?
The smell of my own fear-sweat overpowered the sweet floral air, marking me as prey. They could probably smell it too—my terror. I wished I was as cool as Enzo in the face of danger, unshakable no matter the threat.
As I marched deeper into this mysterious realm, the crimson pines and white-barked trees began to thin out, revealing glimpses of white homes that emerged from between the trunkslike pearls scattered across green velvet—some grand as palaces with soaring spires that twisted toward the lavender sky, others more modest like fairy tale cottages with curved walls and arched doorways.
But they all shared one breathtaking quality: they glowed. Not with electric light, but with an inner radiance that pulsed gently like a heartbeat, casting everything in soft, ethereal illumination that made the air itself seem to shimmer.
Some of the residents had emerged from their glowing homes and lined the checkered path like spectators at an execution. Heat flushed across my skin under their scrutiny as dozens of otherworldly eyes tracked our procession.
A woman with silver hair cascading to her ankles tilted her head, studying me with the detached curiosity of someone examining an exotic insect. Her pale lips curved into a small, cold smile that made my stomach clench with dread.
Others weren't so subtle in their hostility. A man with scars crisscrossing his face spat on the ground as we passed, his expression twisting with such raw hatred that I shrank closer to my captors—a move that disgusted me even as I did it. His eyes burned with the kind of fury that came from deep, personal loss.
But it was the pity that unnerved me most. An elderly Unseelie woman pressed her hand to her heart and shook her head slowly, her ancient eyes filled with something that looked dangerously close to sympathy. She whispered something in a language that sounded like wind chimes and regret.
My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Obviously strangers—especially human-looking ones—weren't welcome here. I thought about the Supernatural War Enzo had told me about, and my gaze swept over the watching faces with new understanding. How many of these soldiers marching beside me had fought in that brutal conflict? How many of the residents lining our path had lost children, lovers, parents to that war?
If they had—and judging by the scarred faces and haunted eyes around me, many had—they would be hungry for revenge. The kind of soul-deep vengeance that had been festering for decades.
And would put my own world at risk.
This wasn't going to end well, and not even my shadows—cowering and weak as they felt in this place—would be able to stop the inevitable outcome.
I was walking toward my own execution, and everyone here knew it. Everyone but Ari. He acted as if he had an ace up his sleeve. Maybe he’d escape the hangman’s blade, but I wasn’t sure I would.
The closer we got to the palace the more sadness cut into me, knowing I’d never see Enzo again. I don’t know why Ari thought I could protect him. I couldn’t even save myself.
