Chapter 2
Shit, what do I do?
How does this work?
I grab my coat and bolt outside, scanning the night sky like the answers I’m looking for might be written in the stars.
I spin, desperate to catch the rare sight of the Court of the Fallen revealing itself to me.
It’s happened only three times in my lifetime, and each time, I was either too young and had no idea what was going on, or I was doing something else and missed it entirely.
How much time do I have?
Barefoot, I sprint uphill to where the trees thin out. The ground is still damp and freezing under my feet, but I don’t have time for shoes, unless I want to miss the only opportunity to change my life forever.
The moon looks massive from where I stand, looming like an omen. The sky feels heavier, darker than any other autumn night I have ever experienced, and the stars seem to pulse.
Then—
From the shadows, something begins to form. Like smoke curling into shape. Like a mirage summoned by starlight and the night sky.
The Court of the Fallen rises into existence right before my eyes.
A luminous city stitched into the sky, suspended in bright moonlight.
Too beautiful to trust.
Like a bouquet of roses—dazzling, but dripping with thorns.
The city glows with lights that don’t belong in this world—soft gold, dusky violets, silver that shimmers like it’s been dipped in a river of stars—if such a place existed.
I fear it might up there. Towers twist like spirals of clouds.
Bridges arc between floating spires, lit by enchanted lanterns.
Street after street winds through it, connecting the city like passageways to heaven.
And there are people—Fae, in various shapes and forms. Wings. Furs. Fangs. They glance down at us in their glamorous glowing gowns and wickedly sharp suits, like they’ve been waiting for us, too.
Gods, I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.
I just stand there, stunned, and suddenly, I understand why sailors would follow sirens to their deaths—how something so beautiful could drag you under.
Around me, people gather. Some gasp, others murmur, a few scream.
All of us are caught between awe and terror, mesmerised and utterly terrified.
One of the female Fae with blond hair rises from a floating platform, her midnight-blue gown sparkling like the dark, starry sky around her. She graciously descends, wings barely stirring the air, every movement precise, like the Queen of the Night.
“Good evening,” she says with a smile that could have all men falling to their knees. “It’s been so long since we last hosted your visit to our city.”
Visit?
Is that what they think this is?
I thought a visit implied a return.
Unfortunately, most of us never make that journey.
“I trust you all remember the rules, but in case you weren’t born the last time we did this, let me remind you.
” She jokes as if she’s hosting a game show—technically, I suppose she is.
“They’re simple. Seven lucky humans will be selected to compete in our trials.
With each round, at least one contestant will be eliminated.
” She pauses, then winks. “Only one will remain. And that lucky winner will be granted a single wish by the Court.”
The crowd goes wild.
Chanting. Shouting. Praying.
Some cry. Others beam with excitement.
All of us drunk on desperation and temptation.
As if fuelled by the chaos, the Fae smiles—the kind of smile that makes my stomach twist.
“Simmer down, people … it’s not like we force you to do anything,” she says, voice sweet as sugar.
“Those who don’t feel like taking a trip to the moon, by all means, please go back to your homes.
” She flutters her bright-green eyes. “Those who feel like playing—just close your eyes and make a wish.”
“And how do we know who gets picked?” a voice shouts.
The Fae arches a brow. “Now, where’s the fun in giving everything away?” Then another smile. “Trust me, if you’re selected, you’ll know.”
I blink, again and again.
Then I take a deep breath, only just realising I’ve been holding it.
For the briefest moment, Noah’s face flashes in my mind. His sad eyes and those quiet, heavy words … they almost make me hesitate.
But when I close my eyes, I see Declan.
He’s there, like he’s always been.
So close.
Yet impossibly far.
And I know it in my bones, in every breath I take, that I have to do this.
If I don’t take this once-in-a-lifetime chance, I will regret it for the rest of my life.
I’d rather break my own heart trying than spend forever haunted by the what-ifs.
So, I squeeze my eyes tighter, wishing in my head, begging, and praying to be picked, over and over again.
The Fae has already vanished when I open my eyes. Some of the people have cleared out. The rest are still wishing at the night sky, some even on their knees.
And I just wait there, for something,
Anything.
A sign.
A miracle.
A chance.
I brace myself in the cold wind. My feet have lost all feeling, and I’ll probably wake up with blisters, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.
I wait and wait some more.
Five, ten, twenty minutes pass.
Still, nothing.
And then—a gust of wind blasts from the dense lines of pines.
I turn.
And freeze.
A glowing figure stands in the dark. A male Fae spreads his dark wings wide, etched with blue constellations as if they were tattoos.
He’s just standing there, arms crossed, a brow raised, waiting.
I swear I can see the vicious curl of his smile from here.
I look around, but nobody else moves. No heads turn.
It’s as if I’m the only one seeing him.
Oh, Gods.
I am the only one seeing him.
I stumble back, my feet cold like ice.
He steps forward, emerging from the shadows into the moonlight like a dream carved out of a star.
Or a nightmare.
He moves like smoke, graceful, slow, unbothered—then he stops a few steps before me, and still, everyone else seems to be cursed with blindness—a shame, really, because they’ve all missed a chance to witness the most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen.
My throat is suddenly dry.
His face is sharp, perfectly and carefully sculpted by the Gods of stars and moons, all clean lines and cruel beauty.
A mouth like his was made for lies—and for tracing fire across skin and lips.
His honeyed skin glows faintly, like he’s been bathed in starlight, and I am now convinced there must be a river of stars up there.
His hair is as dark as a midnight storm, strands falling over his brow in just the right way to make it unfair to the rest of the men I’ve ever laid eyes on.
And his eyes.
Gods.
They’re different colours.
One glows like liquid gold, the other like shattered pieces of twilight sky—deep blue, way too deep. Way too easy to drown in.
One glance at him, and I forget the world around me in a blink of an eye.
He is very much not human.
“Interesting choice of outfit,” he says, his grin matching his voice—smooth, sharp, and far too pleased with itself.
It’s exactly the kind of thing I’d expect from someone who looks like a dream and a nightmare had a baby. An angel with the devil’s wings.
I glance down at myself. A bathrobe, mismatched coat, and bare feet.
“I—” I start, but words escape me. I clear my throat, then try again. “It’s not like there’s a dress code.”
He seems amused. “My sincerest apologies. I’ll be sure to send out a memo next time.”
Interesting sense of humour.
I stare at him.
Now what?
As if reading my mind, he extends a hand.
I hesitate.
“Now or never, Cassandra,” he murmurs. “Your brother is almost here.”
What?
Noah—oh, Gods. Noah.
“Cass!”
I make a terrible mistake of turning. Noah is bracing his knees, panting hard, like he’s been running since the second he realised what had appeared in the sky.
I don’t think Noah can see the Fae.
But maybe my face is enough for him to understand what’s happening.
An invisible hand squeezes my heart.
My breath catches, and I try not to cry again.
“I’m sorry, Noah,” I whisper. “Please forgive me. I love you.”
His eyes widen. He leaps forward—but it’s too late.
“Cass, what are you doing?!”
I place my hand in the Fae’s.
And we vanish into thin air.
Leaving my brother with the ghost of where I once stood.