Chapter 2

Two

Ambrose

Eighteen years to the day I’ve been searching for her. Never anywhere close. Following trails that led to dead ends. Hiring witches to do tracker spells that couldn’t find a trace of Adelia or Florence. Likely due to the latter having some sort of wards or protective spells around them.

I’d hired the best trackers money could buy. Nothing.

Not until early this morning when a wave went through me. Like wind traveled along and across my body. As it passed, I felt a pull, and I followed it, not asking any questions.

This isn’t goodbye, Duke. We’ll see you again. Rather, you’ll find us.

I’ve played Florence’s words over and over in my head the past eighteen years. Mulling them over, looking for clues for where to find them. So when I got this feeling on the exact day of Adelia’s birth, it felt like a sign. Like Florence was telling me it’s finally time.

For whatever reason, today, Adelia’s eighteenth birthday, is when Florence chose–or maybe the queen had before she died–for me to reunite with them.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ambrose.” Heat fills me as my name leaves her lips in that musical, sweet voice.

Beautiful.

Just as stunning as her mother was, almost her twin, but the little bit of the King in her nose and the shape of her lips only adds to her beauty.

“Wonderful to meet you, A–Lia.” I almost slip and call her by her given name. How would I explain that?

I was there the day you were born, when your mother named you, even though I don’t look a day older than I did eighteen years ago.

That’s part of the perk of the fae. Long life spans. Whereas witches must use anti-aging spells to remain young, to hold their youthful appearance, fae will live to be a thousand years old and never look older than mid forties.

I am aware that I still look to be in my early twenties though, given that I am very young for a fae. At one hundred and fifty-two years old, I’m practically still a babe.

Adelia’s smile is radiant as she sidles past me to a large jug of some drink sitting on top of a workbench in the garage. “So, Ambrose–cool name, by the way–how do you know Ryan?”

Who?

Must be the owner of the house. I can’t pretend to know him since he won’t recognize me when we meet. “I don’t. Heard the noise, wanted to crash. Glad I did.”

Because that pull led me to this house. To her.

Liquid splashes as Adelia fills two cups to the brim of whatever liquid is in the jug. Based on the smell wafting from it, it’s some kind of spirit. Or a mixture of several.

Pink tinges her cheeks, giving me a small sense of pride. “Did you want to go in?” Every part of me wants to say yes. But I’ve seen her now. I know she isn’t going anywhere, and I have eighteen years of questions that need answers.

With a glance at the garage door she came from, I look back at her and shake my head, which causes the smile to fall from her face.

Damn. I don’t like that.

“But I’d like to see you again.” This brings the smile back to her face and it feels as if I’ve won something.

“Can I have your phone?” I frown, and she continues, “I’ll put my number in.”

Right. First, get my questions answered. Second, buy a phone.

I’ve been traveling through realms for eighteen years. Never staying long enough to need to adapt to their customs. I’ve been to the human realm several times, so it’s not like I’m unaware of the technology humans use, but I’ve never needed it.

Could be useful in this case until she can communicate with me our way. Her mother was fae, as was her dad. Fae in general cannot mind-speak with one another. However, amongst royalty, it is very common for soul bonds to be formed for that exact reason. It’s not common outside of it because to bond one’s soul with the other is no small thing. It’s an intimate thing. An ultimate test of loyalty. A link to the other’s mortality.

When I bond with her, her death would mean mine. Mine would also mean hers, unless she has other bonds keeping her tethered to this life. Which she very well could. Queens commonly have no less than three soul bonds.

Her mother renounced that tradition, only bonding to her father. A romantic notion, but a dumb one. More bonds equals more strength, more protection.

A door opening draws both of our attention and a female in male’s clothes pokes out her head. Halloween in the human realm is a ridiculous, almost offensive affair. This woman has color on her face to make it look like she’s grown facial hair.

Her eyes pop open in surprise before a mischievous smile tilts her lips. “I thought you might have drowned in the jungle juice.”

That gorgeous pink floods her cheeks again, and I grin. “Meet me at the coffee house on main street tomorrow? Four?” I ask Adelia, trying to distract her from the fact I don’t have a cell phone yet.

Another sweet smile before she nods. I grab her hand and give it a gentle kiss like when we met. “Tomorrow,” I make it sound like the promise it is, and then walk away so she can join her friend.

At the end of the driveway my feet stop moving.

Come on, Florence. Where are you?

Big breath in, slow breath out. Magic hums along my skin. A negligible amount. Nothing like an elemental has, but every fae gets some sort of magic. Mine is what I call the killing power. It’s essential for battle, but not much use outside of it for anything other than small parlor tricks.

As it zings from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, I focus on the feeling from earlier. The pull I got to this realm and to Adelia. There’s still the pull to her, dragging me back towards the house. But I ignore that and search for another.

I find it.

Not even a tenth of the pull to Adelia which is like a gold band connecting the two of us. This one is nearly translucent and so flimsy I might lose it if I don’t concentrate hard enough.

It leads me South. About five blocks from where I found Adelia to an unassuming house that looks just like every other one on the street. Boring. Lifeless.

Not at all what Adelia deserves. When we go home and she takes on her birthright, she’ll be back in the castle surrounded by riches and jewels and everything else she is entitled to.

The porch illuminates as a light is switched on, the front door swings open, and Florence steps out. She looks much the same as she did when I saw her eighteen years ago. There is a little age to her face, though, which I assume is on purpose to fit in with the humans. It would look odd if she never aged, if her ward eventually looked more like a sister than a daughter or whatever their dynamic is.

“What took you so long?” Are her first words to me, and I want to throttle her for the smug, cocky smirk on her face.

“You know exactly what took me so long. So what was it? Did you finally pull down the wards?” I walk up to her and she steps back to let me inside.

The house is definitely lived in. There are several pictures of the two of them littering the walls that make me smile. She’s lived a good, happy eighteen years. That’s all her parent’s ever wanted for her.

“I didn’t deactivate anything. All I did was activate the beacon spell I put on the two of you before stepping through the portal the night she was born.”

Sneaky witch.

“It’s stronger between her and I than it is for us.” It’s said as a statement, but she answers it for the question it is.

“Ours will fade to nothing in a few days. The link between you and Lia will stay as strong as it is now so long as she wears the pendant that I gave her this morning.”

Good. I need that until we bond. How else will I keep her safe?

“Is she likely to take it off?” Maybe I can have Florence spell it so it can’t come off.

But she shakes her head. “She’s never taken off her mother’s necklace. Not for a single day in the ten years since I gave it to her.”

I nod, and we stare at each other in silence. Me, willing her to start giving me an explanation or a rundown of their lives, anything. And her…I don’t know what she wants. To torture me it seems.

“Well?” I grit out through clenched teeth.

“Well, what?” Her tone is innocent.

“Don’t test me, Florence. I think I’m owed some answers. I’ve spent eighteen years searching for her.”

She drops the teasing, innocent look, sobering immediately.

“Where should I start?”

“What were your instructions? What did the queen tell you?” It’s been driving me mad all this time, the queen’s visions. She must have confided them in Florence. Enough to trust her to watch over and protect her daughter.

“Not much. She told me of her death and the king’s. Of Lia’s if she were to stay in the realm. She would have been hunted her whole life for the power she would wield. She told me of your intent to bond Lia.”

“But not if Lia would choose the bond, also?” There is always the chance she rejects it when I offer. A shake of her head. “Figures,” I mutter.

“There wasn’t a lot the queen could tell me if she didn’t want to tempt fate, to alter the future.” Florence continues, ignoring me. “She saw that Lia would be safe in the human realm, that I could hide her with my magic until it was safe for you to find her.”

“And do what?” What was the queen’s goal?

Florence eyes me, maybe testing my temperament before she finally says, “Take her back home…to where her mates are waiting for her.”

Her what?