by Chani Feener
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Chani Lynn Feener
Publisher’s Acknowledgments
Copyright
To Kat, Katrina, Katie.
It was cold.
Arden rubbed her hands together and tried to peer through the darkness that surrounded her, desperate to make something out. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but everything felt different…. Wrong, somehow. Foreign.
She tried to think back to how she’d gotten to this place, but her mind was blank, as void as the space around her. A wave of cloying fear washed over her and she paused, forcing herself to take a breath and think through the panic.
There’d been an accident—no, not an accident, a sacrifice. A Tithe.
But that wasn’t right either. The Tithe was over; a week had passed since she’d rescued Tabitha and sent the Erlking to the Underground in her friend’s place. A week since the group of them—she, Tabitha, Cole, and Eskel—had started sleeping over at Tabby’s house, the lot of them too unnerved to separate.
Ah.
Sleep.
It came to her all at once: this was a dream, and she’d had it before. Lost to her memories when she was awake, the dream returned to her vividly as she slept, and she watched it begin to play out.
As if summoned by her realization, the world began to color. Splashes of green and brown slowly filled up the empty space, the darkness receding until she was standing in the midst of a forest. Above her, a thick, leafy canopy concealed most of the sky.
Movement off to the left caught her attention, and she turned to watch Mavek step from behind a graying tree trunk. He was as pale as ever, with jet-black hair. His eyes were a swirl of greens and golds and browns, and he was dressed as he had been the night of the Tithe, in a vest that showcased the dozens of rose tattoos scattered up and down his arms and partially across his chest.
But that’s where the familiarity stopped. He felt different. Before, there’d been a sense of safety whenever Mavek was around. A sense of home. Now when she looked at him, even knowing this wasn’t reality, things just felt wrong.
“Come All Saints’ Eve,” Mavek’s voice rang throughout the forest and she instinctively recoiled, unable to escape his words, “no one will be able to hurt you.”
“Stop,” she said, but it came out a whisper, her throat suddenly dry. Her limbs grew heavy, halting her retreat.
“Come All Saints’ Eve,” he took a step closer, the air around him shifting and darkening, almost like he was surrounded by a storm cloud, “we’ll be able to be together forever.”
Guilt and disgust mixed within her. She knew what those words meant now, and fear of her future threatened to consume her. Cursed with the sight for life, Arden had only just begun to accept this burdensome fate. Now, standing in this forest, she knew that there were worse things to be than merely cursed. There were worse things to fear than simply the existence of Unseelie faeries.
Her eyes locked on Mavek’s, and she braced herself for what she knew would come next. Desperately, she tried to wake herself, but no matter how many times she pinched her arm, nothing changed. Mavek kept advancing toward her, and she kept stumbling back, even knowing what was back there, waiting.
The Midnight Prince was turning her into something monstrous, but she frantically reminded herself that this wasn’t really him. The Mavek before her was nothing more than a dream phantom, a manifestation of her fear of turning into him.
Yet behind her, still another fear was being brought to light.
“Stop,” she repeated, this time more to herself than to him. Her legs were moving of their own accord, her feet already turning her, despite how hard she struggled against them. Much like in the waking world, she had almost no control.
There were two things that terrified Arden. Turning fae was one of them. Dying was another.
One meant becoming a monster, and the other… she didn’t really know. That caused bile to rise up the back of her throat, because what did it say about her that she found death the more frightening of the two? That she’d rather live in any way, shape, or form, than face possible oblivion?
Mavek was close now, too close, and Arden’s feet completed the turn all at once, putting him at her back. Before she could worry about his next move, a figure appeared in front of her, as if from thin air.
The dagger came first, the sharp tip of the blade glinting in the light a mere second before it thrust forward and pierced through her heart. Her shoulders slumped inward protectively, even though it was too late, her hand instinctually shooting out to latch onto the wrist that still held the knife.
Her eyes trailed up her attacker’s arm, his body taking form as she slowly looked up. She scanned past his elbow, up to his shoulder and above, watching in horror as a familiar face appeared, as eyes as deep as the ocean came into focus and stared back.
“Eskel,” his name slipped past her lips, the sound of it causing the corner of his mouth to tip up in a vicious smirk.
Without a word, the blond boy stepped closer, their breath mingling, until the tips of his shoes touched hers. Then, before her brain could process anything else, his hand gripped the dagger tighter.
And he twisted.
Arden sprang up with a start, panting and covered in a fine layer of sweat. Remnants of the nightmare flickered through her mind, and she sat still, waiting for them to dissipate.
She knew from experience that she should try to cling to details of the dream before it was too late and she was left with only disconnected bits and pieces. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to actually do it, the tight fear gripping her chest more than she could bear. In the week since the Tithe, she’d woken just like this multiple times, hand pressed against her racing heart.
As usual, within a minute most of the dream became a blur, mostly flashes of sensation and occasional glimpses of Mavek and Eskel. Whether or not she’d spoken to either was a blank. It wasn’t hard to figure out, however, that she’d been stabbed, the same way she had been in the vision the Erlking had shown her. Ever since that night, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about those rings. Her attacker had worn one of them.
Eskel had one too.
A glimpse of Eskel’s face, cruelly smirking, flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Though she couldn’t recall exactly, some part of her knew that it was the blond boy who took on the form of her attacker in her nightmare. She’d long since discarded him as a threat in the waking world, but his face still featured in her subconscious every night, and she hated the doubt that still existed within her. She took a calming breath; what happened in her dreams was out of her control.
“Hey.”
She jumped, twisting around almost too quickly, righting her balance just in time so that she didn’t end up falling on top of Tabby who was sound asleep at her side.
Eskel was on her left, sitting up now as well, face partially obscured by the darkness of the room. He was watching her intently, a crease furrowing his brow. Even though she knew his concern was genuine, a part of her felt a rush of fear at having him so close.
Arden
inhaled shakily, slowly, forcing her mind to clear and her body to relax. It’d only been a dream; it wasn’t real. Eskel would never hurt her. She believed that.
She had to believe it.
“Are you okay?” Eskel whispered, leaning in a little closer, not wanting to wake their friends. He lifted his hand toward her, but paused when she tensed and dropped it back down.
“Another nightmare?” he asked when a long stretch of silence had passed between them.
“Yes,” she admitted, her voice cracking, throat still dry.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She found that she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. She simply had too few details of what had happened in it. The only part she was certain about—the part that involved the Erlking’s vision—she wasn’t going to share. Not with anyone.
It would put too many people she cared about in danger.
Behind them, Cole continued to snore.
“No,” she said.
“You know I’m here for you,” he told her, “if you ever change your mind and need someone to listen, right?”
“Yeah,” the word came out shaky and uncertain, even to her own ears. Arden took another deep breath, imagining all of the lingering emotions brought on by the nightmare spilling out of her as she exhaled.
“Yeah,” she tried again, managing a smile this time, hoping it seemed even half as genuine as his unwavering concern did, “of course.” She forced herself to reach out, to rest her hand over his. “Thank you.”
Eskel would never hurt her.
She pretended not to know she was being followed. She was always being followed now, by one creature or another, and it was starting to fray her last nerve.
Arden Archer turned down the street, hands tucked deep into the pockets of her pale pink pea coat, left hand gripping the palm-sized dagger concealed there, its blade pressed against her wrist inside her sleeve. If she had to, she’d defend herself.
She hoped she didn’t have to.
In the three weeks since the Tithe had ended, this had been her reality. So far, Unseelie had trailed her but kept their distance. Being noticed by the fae wasn’t new––their stares had tracked her ever since she was a child––but the following… that was different. Before, she only garnered their attention if she happened upon them. Now, they were the ones making themselves available.
They’d even flooded the town, despite the fact that with the Tithe long since over, there was no longer any reason for them to remain. When she’d asked, Cato had said they were probably just curious to see who took the Erlking’s place.
There was someone else she could question, someone who would definitely know, but she was avoiding him.
The library finally came into view and she inhaled slowly, letting the icy air fill her lungs, welcoming the distracting burn for a second. She’d counted at least three Unseelie behind her, all acting like they were tourists or townies, and quickly glancing away when she’d caught one of their eyes.
Ridiculous.
It was the day after Thanksgiving, so the college campus was all but empty as Arden made her way through it to the two-story white stone building on the hill. The original Thornbrooke library had been brick, much like the rest of the structures that made up the college, but it’d suffered severe water damage ten years ago. When the decision to rebuild from scratch had been made, the board had decided to change its design. Now, the blindingly white library stood out among the rest of the old buildings like an eyesore, rather than the beacon the board had hoped for.
Arden’s boots clicked against the wooden ramp leading to the double glass doors. Struggling against the urge to glance over her shoulders one last time, she entered the library, turning right without pause.
The path brought her deeper into the history section, where rows of empty wooden tables with dimmed lamps in their centers greeted her. She ignored them as well, twisting through the stacks to get to the far back of the section at the end of the library.
Her friends were already there, situated around one of the few round tables, tucked between bloated shelves of books with dust-covered tomes almost nobody touched. This section had been long forgotten by the bulk of the student population, visited only by the occasional transfer interested in learning more about the local lore and the Unseen.
The town of Thornbrooke knew about the fae, they just didn’t know what they were. Ghost stories and recollections of strange creatures in the woods came up in everyday conversation with the older generations, but very few understood that the Unseen were really a different kind of monster.
Cole, Tabitha, and Eskel were all hunched over books, each scribbling into a notebook. They were all so deeply invested in their work that they didn’t hear her approaching until she was already there.
“Hey,” she said, dropping into a vacant seat between Eskel and Tabitha. They startled, but she didn’t acknowledge it, instead reaching for one of the books piled in the center of the table. Its cover was a faded red and its spine was torn. Bringing it closer, she made out the title, etched in gold, and grunted. “Seeing the Unseen. Really?”
Cole lifted a shoulder and leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking slightly beneath his weight. He looked tired, with light purple splotches beneath his umber eyes. “We’ve looked through everything else.”
“It’s a massive library,” she pointed out. “There’s got to be more.”
“I’ve ordered more books through Howl’s,” Tabby reassured her, closing the volume she’d been reading with a thump. “It’ll be a couple of weeks before they get here though.”
Howl Books, the college bookstore, was where the two of them worked. Fortunately, it meant they were able to suggest new titles for stock, but they could only order so many at a time to avoid arousing their manager’s suspicions. Using the store for their own personal shopping was generally frowned upon.
Normally Arden would have ordered books online and had them shipped to her house, but her residence was also being monitored. The last thing she needed was for one of the fae to steal a package off her doorstep and bring it straight to Rose Manor.
Not that she was naïve enough to believe that Mavek wasn’t aware of what she’d been up to these past few weeks. Even if the fae stalking her weren’t sent by him, he’d know. He’d kept his distance so far, but she was under no illusions that his absence meant he’d washed his hands of her.
“Did you guys find anything at least?” she asked, sighing. She watched as all three of their expressions darkened, disappointment and frustration flashing across their tired faces.
The day after the Tithe, she’d been afraid to tell them what she’d discovered about herself. To tell them what the Midnight Prince had done to her. Part of her had feared they’d turn their backs and shun her after she confessed. But they hadn’t. Tabby had held her as she cried, and Cole and Eskel had both immediately sworn they’d do everything they could to stop it.
To stop Arden from turning into an Unseelie faerie.
“I’ve got some more articles back at the dorm to go through,” Eskel told her. “Maybe there will be something there. We know you’re not the only human to be turned into one of them. We’ll find something.”
She tried to smile, but only managed to curve one corner of her mouth. The truth was, they had found things. There were tons of tales out there of mortals becoming immortals, all ultimately whisked off to the Underground to live forever. Of humans eating foods they shouldn’t—like Arden had inadvertently done—and becoming something else overnight.
Only, Arden wasn’t changing anywhere near that fast. And they’d yet to find a single story that told of a human changing back.
“How was your guys Thanksgiving?” Her blatant change of topic didn’t faze them; her friends were used to her deflections by now. These days, there was only so much time Arden could devote to feeling sorry for herself before she needed a distraction. She wanted desperately to focus on the normal, even though her life had never rea
lly been normal, even prior to all of this.
Arden had always possessed the sight—the ability to see the Unseelie, even when they tried to hide themselves with their magic. It was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She’d hoped to rid herself and her family of the curse, so she’d made a deal with the devil.
More than that, she’d trusted him.
“It was good,” Tabby answered, twirling her pen between her fingers. “Mom asked why you didn’t come this year though. I tried telling her you were sick. I’m not sure she believed me.”
Even before her mother had died, Arden spent every Thanksgiving with Tabitha’s family. Her mom had been in and out of hospitals for years, and Arden had wanted her younger sister, Ainsley, to have some semblance of normal. Even last year, after sending her sister away to live with their aunt, she’d flown Ainsley back for the holiday.
Her sister still wasn’t pleased that she’d refused this time around.
“Uncle Luke made his famous cranberry stuffing,” Cole said. “You really missed out.”
Arden snorted and turned to Eskel. “What about you?”
“I video chatted with my parents,” he told her. “We technically ate together that way. It was kind of fun.” Originally, he’d planned on flying all the way back home to California, but he’d changed his mind last minute.
He hadn’t said as much, but Arden knew it was because of her.
Not for the first time, she wondered if he would still even be here if the two of them hadn’t met. The only reason he’d transferred to Thornbrooke College was to find his brother’s killer, which he’d successfully done. Their school wasn’t bad, but it certainly wasn’t top tier either, and Eskel was a lot smarter than their tiny town—riddled with its ghost stories—deserved.
She’d tried to convince him to go back once, about a week after the Tithe, but he’d refused. It was too dangerous here, especially with the influx of fae. Too dangerous for all of them, she worried, glancing at Cole and Tabitha as they chatted with Eskel about what type of dishes he’d eaten.