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Yes. No.
How could I have ever known?
How could I have ever not?
And perhaps it was the lifetime we had shared, but Roark nodded even without the signet linking us, understanding what I couldn’t say, what I couldn’t quite comprehend myself.
“If Bain finds out that you two are…” He drew a long breath before his shoulders squared. “He’ll summon the Wild Hunt for her, too.” His fingers closed over the signet as he accepted his new charge.
“Then let’s hope she keeps that esmeraude on her finger.”
He nodded grimly.
Roark tugged his lip ring, a tattoo snaking across his temple. “The second you step foot in London, it won’t just be the Wild Hunt gunning for you. I don’t suppose there’s any point in suggesting that you keep your distance.”
There was not. Not with this sacred and unbreakable new magic binding me to her. Not when every breath without her burned like I was drowning. Not when she was in my enemy’s hands. Not when she was mine.
And if I had to walk into hell to get her back, let me burn.
Epilogue
“You’ll understand.”
Light seeped into my dream, and I blinked to discover a buttery shaft of sun pouring through the open window. I bolted up, staring at the white curtains fluttering on the warm breeze sweeping through the room. I clutched the soft sheet over me as I scanned my surroundings. A gold clock ticked faintly on the nightstand, a glass of water resting next to it. My fingers drifted to my dry mouth. A cloying sweetness lingered on my parched lips. The memory of a hand pressing a chloroform-soaked cloth flashed to mind, and I ignored the drink.
Throwing off the sheets, I hauled my heavy legs over the side of the foreign bed. My heart stuttered when I saw the white cotton nightdress I wore. Where were my clothes? I scanned the bedroom’s paneled walls, their serene white continuing to the furniture. Everything was bright and calm and lovely.
Everything was a lie.
I rose on unsteady feet and walked slowly to the door. I said a silent prayer as I reached for its crystal knob, my pulse speeding up as my gaze fell on the emerald I wore.
“Don’t take it off.”
I winced as Lach’s voice filled my head, an ache spreading through my chest, threatening to send me to my knees. I forced myself to turn the knob, deflating with relief to find it unlocked. Bracing myself, I stepped into an airy lounge. Columns held up the high ceiling, the walls punctuated with arched doorways. The glossy marble floors were cool against my feet as I tiptoed through the open space. There were no guards. No staff.
I wasn’t a prisoner.
I followed the breeze moving through an arch. It drifted out of the palace and into a courtyard. I paused on the threshold, drinking in the lush, manicured hedges surrounding the stone palace. A blood-apple tree rose from the center of the immaculate gardens. I was in the Otherworld, but where? My eyes studied the rolling hills in the distance, their brilliant green peppered with golden flowers.
The clink of metal on china drew my attention away from the distance, and I turned to find a table laid with crisp linens and expensive china. A small bounty of fruit and pastries waited along with a familiar face. Not Bain, thankfully, but a friend waiting for me. I waited for relief to find me, but something locked me in place. I forced myself forward, ignoring the cold creeping up the base of my spine. He didn’t look up from the paper he was reading as I approached. I paused at the edge of the table.
He ruffled his newspaper and turned the page. “I hope you slept well.”
Was he the person on the other end of the phone Lach had left me? Had Channing made the call? I turned in a full circle as if my brother might appear from somewhere within the palace.
But my host gestured to a seat across from him. “Please sit.”
I did, still processing the rolling countryside that surrounded us, peaceful and lovely, so perfect that it almost hurt. Gnawed. Like underneath the idyllic beauty, something festered.
“Please eat something.” He pushed a tray of pastries toward me, but I stared at the gold-rimmed china before me.
“How did I get here?” I asked.
A frown tipped his mouth, and he picked up a scone. “I apologize for that unpleasant business.” He slathered clotted cream on it and placed it on my plate. I didn’t touch it, and the frown deepened. “It’s not poisoned. I promised you would be safe here. I always keep my word, Cate.”
I folded my hands to hide my trembling fingers. “Did Lach send me here?”
“Have something to eat,” he urged, ignoring my question.