The trees spin around me, shadows creeping. Twisting, looming. I need something,anything, to latch onto before I tumble into the abyss. It’s right there, beckoning me. A wide, empty darkness. I don’t want to fall, but I can’t pull myself away, every kick in my lungs edging my closer.
I had a reason once, didn’t I? To keep going? What was it?
Ellie.
Her face forms in my mind. A warm smile, eyes full of love. The lavender scent of her hair. I hug myself tightly, imagining the soft heat of her arms around me.
Her voice when she told me she loved me.
The laughter breaks, sputtering until it peters out. The tears remain, but I can breathe.
I have to push through. For Ellie. I have no idea how, but there has to be a way.
Footsteps rustle through grass. Someone kneels beside me, cold fingers touching my forehead.
“Sleep.” My mother’s voice echoes through what remains.
Everything fades to darkness.
* * *
It’s daytime when I wake. I’m back in my bed. My fae bed, specifically. I haven’t woken up from this nightmare. I never thought I’d miss my shitty mattress from home.
My head’s pounding. Mouth’s a desert. A cup of water sits on the bedside table—I gulp it down so fast I almost throw it back up. The relief is short-lived, nowhere near enough.
It’s hard to say how long I slept—if it’d been an entire day, I’d probably be hungrier? I don’t know; I’ve never fasted before. But that would make my wedding tomorrow.
So I have one day to get out of here. And I’m no longer surrounded by armed guards.
Feeling slightly light-headed, I change into clean clothes—something not covered in dirt and grass stains. I open the door…
…and there stands an armed guard.
Of course.
He stiffens as I step forward, tilting his spear toward me.
I pause, my irritation brewing. “Can I go?”
There’s a nervous bend to his brow as he clears his throat. “You’re still under isolation. My orders are to keep you here.”
Nope, no way—I’m getting out, even if I have to punch him in the face.
Or… I can try to willbend him. It’s not like I have anything to lose at this point. So I gather up all the fraying threads of my resolve, pressing them into my words.
“Let me pass,” I demand, stepping forward.
His spear moves closer, his face hardening. “I can’t. Queen’s orders.”
Fuck. It didn’t work.
A searing anger spikes in my chest—all my pent-up rage, ready to burst. My voice warbles with unbridled frustration. “As your prince, I order you to let me pass.”
The guard’s eyes widen, then he steps aside.
I guess I should’ve tried that earlier?
I high-tail it out of there before he changes his mind.
