“Finn, it’s me,” I say quickly, reaching out. “I held you first. I—”
He recoils, clutching the edge of the bed as if it can shield him. “You smellwrong. You’re not my mama! You’re not safe! Mama Izel says you’renotsafe!”
I catch it then—a faint, choking sweetness of roses and almond oil, mixed with the stench of blood. The hearth dims momentarily, cold swirling around us before burning bright again.
What in the world…?With a gasp, it dawns on me. Glamour. Izel’s glamour.
That means… Rowan was right. Izel is… a witch. And she’s using glamour to keep my children away from me.
A nurse rushes in, drawn by his raised voice. “My lady—you shouldn’t be here!” she gasps, pulling Finn into her arms.
The hearth dims again, the stench of blood hitting my senses once more.
Finn buries his face against her shoulder, trembling and sobbing.
I stagger back, throat tight, hands useless at my sides. “I am his mother,” I whisper, but the words sound thin, swallowed by the crackle of the fire.
The nurse rocks him gently. “Please go,” she says rudely.
I force myself to leave the nursery before my wolf tears the room apart.
???
Crossing the threshold of my chamber, I stagger back when a raven darts above me. Its black eyes glint, feathers slick as oil, wings fluttering before it perches on the windowsill. It doesn’t take me more than two seconds to realize this raven belongs to the Rogue King of Nightfell.
I grab a piece of parchment and write quickly, my hand unsteady.Rowan. Meet me at the border. Tonight.
I tie the message to its leg. “Go.”
The raven dips its head, then flies off into the night.
???
I wait until dusk has fallen to leave the keep.
But right at the gates, a guard stops me this time. I glare at him, demanding, “Am I not even allowed to take a walk in the woods now? Has Alpha Kade forbidden even that pleasure?”
He gruffs, then withdraws his arm that was blocking my way. I walk quietly until he’s out of sight, and then I sprint.
At the clearing where I met Rowan two nights ago, the mist curls silver over the grass. He waits there, arms folded, green eyes catching the pale glow.
“You called me,” he says softly, uncrossing his arms.
“I saw it with my own eyes,” I tell him, rushing to the point. “She’s tampered with him. Finn—my son—he knew me. For one breath, he knew. Then it was gone.”
Rowan’s jaw tightens, the softness in his eyes melting away. “Witchcraft. I warned you.”
“Yes.” My voice cracks. “He called me Mama. And then… he didn’t. Like a veil fell over.”
For a moment, Rowan says nothing, only looks at me as if trying to understand my grief. Then he pulls a crystal from a leather cord around his neck. It glimmers faintly gold, warm as starlight, pulsing as if alive.
When our fingers brush while he passes it over to me, the silver mist around us flashes bright, startling me. I almost drop the piece from my hand.
I expect him to explain, but he doesn’t, so I turn my attention back to the crystal. “What is it?” I ask, studying its oval shape.
“Moon-amber,” he says. “It can cut through glamour, but only for a while. Sixty seconds, no more.” He presses it into my hand. “Use it wisely.”
The crystal burns faintly against my palm, a warmth that spreads up my arm. I glance up at him. “You’re giving it to me? I understand that it protects you. Surely you need it more than me where—in Nightfell, I mean. All the other rogues—”
