Chapter 2
Violet
“Well, what do you think?”
Bronwen twirled in the dress, skirts flaring just enough that I was pretty sure the slit showed more than it meant to.
Or maybe that was the point.
“It’s very… you.”
Her eyes lit up. “Then it’s perfect.”
She stepped back onto the small platform, adjusting the bodice like she’d worn things like this all her life.
Maybe she had. I watched her through the mirror, candlelight catching in her red hair and along the sharp line of her cheekbones, the easy confidence with which she moved making it clear she knew exactly what she looked like.
When she lifted her hair to twist it into a loose knot, my attention snagged hard.
Two pale scars at the base of her neck.
Identical to the ones I’d noticed weeks ago on her thigh.
My chest tightened.
“Will you ever tell me what those are?”
She froze for a fraction of a second. Bronwen never froze.
She knew exactly what I meant. And she never wore her hair up, either. Now I understood why.
They looked like bite marks—paired, precise, too symmetrical to be anything else.
And the way she went still told me I wasn’t supposed to see them.
“One day,” she said lightly, but her voice wasn’t.
Not today. Not yesterday. And it had been eating at me since the moment I’d noticed.
“So what,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “you have some aggressive lover you’re hiding behind that wall of dresses in your closet?”
Her eyes flared—just once—before she smoothed her expression back into indifference. “Maybe.”
“Well—”
“Miss Kalana,” she cut in smoothly, turning toward the seamstress, “could you make this one in red?”
So that was that.
“Of course,” Miss Kalana purred, sharp teeth flashing when she smiled. “Anything for you.”
Bronwen stepped off the platform, grabbed an armful of dresses, and disappeared behind the changing wall as if the conversation had never happened.
I huffed and sank deeper into the chair, my gaze drifting back to the candle flames.
They flickered and bent in the glass, throwing warped shadows across the shop walls.
I raised a finger, angling it toward the nearest flame, trying to mimic its shape.
It had been weeks since everything happened.
Weeks of training with Adar. Weeks of reading everything I could find on the Sun Realm.
Weeks of trying—and failing—to hone my gifts with the help of Sebastian.
All I’d learned was that Adar was seriously disturbed, the Sun Realm was unbearably hot, and I absolutely sucked at wielding my power.
I hadn’t managed to do anything controlled since then. Not once.
I stared harder at the flame, forcing my breathing to slow, clearing my mind the way Sebastian had taught me.
I can wield fire, I told myself.
I saved Sebastian.
I will raise a realm.
Fire.
I needed fucking fire.
A spark flared to life at the tip of my finger.
My heart jumped into my throat. I bit down hard on my lip to keep from making a sound. I didn’t want Bronwen to see—not yet. Not until I knew this wasn’t a fluke. Not until I could do it again on command.
I can wield fire, I thought, giddy and stunned all at once.
But I still couldn’t get Bronwen to tell me a single godsdamned thing.
The flame sputtered out.
“Gods,” I muttered under my breath.
“Miss Kalana,” Bronwen called, “bring me a few more, will you?”
I slumped back in the chair and stared out the window, knowing the fashion show was far from over.
Fae drifted along the street below, laughing, lingering, unbothered by looming wars or fractured realms. No training bruises.
No ancient powers humming under their skin.
No one trying to unlock something inside them that refused to listen.
Must be nice.
Alastor’s voice slipped into my mind, warm and familiar. How did training go today?
We’d done the ceremony the moment I decided to claim my realm—binding him as my Commander—and then he’d left almost immediately to hunt ghosts in the Sun Realm.
I hadn’t seen him since. But we spoke every day down the new, bright thread that tied us, Sovereign to Commander.
I hadn’t realized just how much we would be tied together.
It was not entirely comfortable having my father able to sense things about me.
I disarmed Adar, I sent back, unable to keep the pride from coloring the words.
The memory lit something in my chest. The look on Adar’s face. The brief, stunned silence.
Maybe I wasn’t as helpless as I felt.
That’s my little bird.
A flash of pale blonde across the street caught my attention.
I shot to my feet, nearly knocking over the small table beside me. The candle wobbled violently, and I lunged, steadying it just before it tipped. Miss Kalana shot me a look from across the room. My pulse hammered as I moved to the window.
Where are you? I asked through the bond.
A small village near the Mountain Realm border.
I scanned the street again, searching for the hair, the shape, the feeling—but there were too many bodies now. Too much movement.
Find anything?
The pause before his answer was short.
No.
Disappointment settled deep in my chest anyway.
The blonde reappeared—and this time it was nothing more than an animal draped around a fae’s shoulders, fur catching the light. I exhaled slowly, stepping back from the glass.
The changing wall rustled. Bronwen emerged in another gown, utterly unconcerned with my near-heart attack. She tilted her head, appraising herself in the mirror.
“So,” she said casually, “how have you been sleeping?”
Heat rushed straight to my cheeks. “Excuse me?”
She ran her hand down the sheer sleeve, lips curving into something wicked as she turned to face me. “Since Sebastian’s room has been fixed. Relax, Vi. Not everything is about sex.”
“You’re horrible,” I muttered.
She spun, skirts flaring. “Thank you.”
We stepped out of the shop as the day began to bleed into evening. Lanterns flared along the cobbled street, their soft blue light washing over slate stones and stretching shadows long beneath the drifting crowd.
I hadn’t gone out with Bronwen since I learned what I was.
And it was exactly as I’d expected.
Fae stared.
Some whispered. Others didn’t bother hiding it at all.
Before, I’d been able to disappear into them—dull hair, brown eyes, nothing worth a second look. Now there was nowhere to hide. Not with pale blonde hair that reacted to my emotions and eyes that never stopped fucking glowing.
Night Realm clothing didn’t matter. The cut, the color—none of it dulled the truth humming under my skin.
Bronwen either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
She moved through the street like she owned it, boots striking stone with easy confidence, voice filling the space between us. She talked about everything and nothing at once, as if the noise itself was a shield—one she was holding up for me as much as herself.
“Sebastian sent a courier to the Forest Realm,” she said lightly. “To inform Lilian’s family of her death.”
My stomach tightened. “How did that go?”
“The courier returned with one less hand than he left with.”
Heat spiked along my scalp.
Bronwen flicked a glance at me, smile cutting. “I can’t tell if you’re getting better or worse at control.”
I followed her gaze and saw it—a golden glow seeping through my hair near my shoulder.
I slowed, drew in a steady breath, and forced it back down. “That shouldn’t affect me?”
“These things happen,” she said mildly, already walking on.
The bar came into view ahead, its windows glowing amber against the dim blue sky. Music drifted through the half-open door—low and slow, threaded with laughter and the soft clink of glass.
Bronwen pushed inside without hesitation.
I followed, resisting the instinct to pause at the threshold.
Fae crowded every table, eyes flashing silver and bottomless black beneath the lanternlight. Shadows clung to the ceiling beams, stirring with bursts of laughter and murmured enchantments, as if the room itself was breathing.
Adar was sprawled against the back wall, a glass dangling loose in his hand. He looked relaxed the way I only saw him relaxed when he was here.
Sebastian stood beside him.
He wore a dark shirt, the top buttons undone. When his gaze found mine, the noise dulled. The crowd blurred. It all narrowed to the pull between us.
Bronwen nudged my side. “Try not to drool.”
I shot her a look, but my mouth betrayed me with a smile anyway—because Sebastian was already moving toward me. Fae shifted, a path opening where there hadn’t been one a heartbeat before.
His hand found mine—cool, steady—and he drew me in just as the tempo softened.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hello, love.”
We stayed on the floor longer than necessary.
The song bled into another, and then another after that. Sebastian didn’t rush it. He never did. He moved with me like nothing outside this room required his attention for a few precious minutes.
“You’re quieter than usual,” he murmured.
“I’m thinking.”
His mouth curved. “And which of the thousand issues has taken the forefront of your mind?”
He spun me gently, slow enough that I didn’t stumble, and when I came back to him my back settled against his chest. That was when I caught it—one fae in the corner, watching too closely.
I found Sebastian’s gaze in the mirror behind the bar. “Do you trust the fae here?” I asked.
“Not one bit,” he murmured.
“They’ve stared all day.”
“Night fae don’t usually travel to the other realms,” he said. “Will they gossip with each other? Absolutely. But that’s as far as it’ll go.”
He leaned down, his breath brushing my ear. “And they won’t touch you. Never again.”
“Why?” I asked, keeping my voice sharp to hide the way heat crept up my spine. “Because of the flames lighting up my hair that I can’t get under control?”
“No,” he said, low and certain. “Because my scent is all over you, and they’re not stupid enough to go after what’s mine.”
Heat shot through me like a struck match.
If I didn’t calm down, everyone would be staring again.
“Very confident in your scariness, are you,” I whispered.
His hand stayed firm on my hip.
Then I felt something else.
A darker touch, cooler.
I looked down to see a thin tendril of shadow looped around my thigh, tracing the edge of my dress.
“Bash,” I breathed through my teeth.
“Mm?”
“I need you to be good on your promise earlier.”
He laughed softly as he whispered, “On it.”