Page 119 of Secrets of Avalon

I let out a soft snort. "That might be the understatement of the century." I tilt my head to meet his gaze. "Are you nervous?"

A wry smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "About marrying you? Not in the slightest." His expression softens, a flicker of vulnerability shows in his bright blue eyes. "About becoming king? Slightly."

I reach up, cupping his cheek in my palm. "You're going to be an amazing king, Hawke. I've seen how much you care for your people, how hard you fight for what's right."

He turns his head, pressing a kiss to my palm. "And you'll be right there beside me, my queen."

The title sends a shiver through me. He might only be slightly nervous about becoming king, but I’m terrified. He’s been prepping for this his whole life. I’ve had a couple of days to get used to the idea. And my very presence in Avalon has started a war.

Hawke's arms tighten around me. "We'll figure it out together. I promise."

I burrow closer to him. "Tell me more about the ceremony. What should I expect?"

As Hawke begins to describe the intricate details of the coronation and wedding rituals, his deep voice rumbles soothingly. My eyelids finally grow heavy, the tension of the day slowly seeps out of my muscles.

His voice fades away as I drift off hoping for peaceful dreams tonight. But even as that hope forms, the tendrils of something darker, something other, reaching for me across the veil of sleep…

The world shifts, reality melting away like candle wax. Suddenly, I'm standing in an endless field, the familiar warmth of Hawke's arms replaced by a cool night breeze that raises goosebumps on my skin. Terror surges through me, a cold wave that threatens to drown out all rational thought. I spin in place, my eyes darting frantically as I search for any trace of Vandimoor. The city has vanished, leaving nothing but an ocean of knee-high grass swaying in the moonlight.

A pinprick of white light blinks into existence beside me, pulsing with a gentle hum. It darts around my head, leaving a streak of light in its wake. The tiny sprite pauses, hovering expectantly just out of reach.

Heart pounding, I take a hesitant step forward. The sprite whirls in tight, excited circles, its hum rising to a delighted chirp. Before I can second-guess myself, it zips away down the hillside, pausing every few yards to ensure I'm following.

I plunge after it, the damp grass soaking the hem of my nightgown. The sprite leads me on a twisting path, the landscape blurring at the edges of my vision. Just as I start to wonder if this chase will ever end, an unfamiliar voice slices through the night.

"Melinda."

I whirl, nearly losing my footing on the slick grass. The field is empty save for the dancing sprite.

"Melinda."

This time the voice comes from behind me. I spin again, my heart leaping into my throat. The sprite vanishes into the night, and there she stands—the woman from the tower cell. Except this time she’s not terrifying. This time she just looks like a normal human woman. No black eyes. No soul sucking vacuum stealing my magick. Somehow, that's even more unsettling.

“You’re her. Aena, aren’t you?”

She tilts her head, reminding me of a curious bird. Her gaze bores into me, searching for something.

"What do you want?" I force the words out past the lump of fear in my throat, taking an involuntary step backward. Any second now, I expect her to transform into a nightmare creature, all fangs and claws and insatiable hunger.

"What they took." Aena's voice is soft, but it carries the weight of centuries. She glides toward me, her movements unnaturally smooth.

Panic explodes in my chest. "Stay away from me!" I thrust my hands out in front of me, as if I can somehow ward her off.

She lunges forward with inhuman speed. A startled cry tears from my lips as I lose my balance, crashing to the ground. Aena looms over me, her features contorted by a feral hunger, eyes wild with frenzied need. "Give back what you stole."

"I didn't steal anything from you!" I scramble backward, grass and mud clinging to my palms. "What are you looking for?"

Aena's head tilts again, confusion flickering across her features. It's as if she can't quite grasp the question—or worse, doesn't know the answer herself.

A wild thought strikes me. I push myself to my feet, ignoring the trembling in my legs. "Do you remember what happened to you?" I take a cautious step toward her. "Everyone is afraid of you, Aena."

She shakes her head, frustration etching deep lines around her mouth. "Give back what you stole!" Her eyes flash a brilliant white, like lightning contained within flesh. Then, just as quickly, they plunge into inky blackness and she grabs my face. "Give back what you stole! Give back what you stole!"

Aena's hands burn like ice against my skin. Her fingers dig into my cheeks, nails biting deep. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. The world begins to spin, faster and faster, Aena's face distorting even more before my eyes. Her features twist into a nightmarish monster—lips peeled back in an angry snarl, eyes blazing with a dangerous fiery rage.

"I don't have it!" I want to shout, but my voice is trapped in my throat. The spinning intensifies.

Give back what you stole. Give back what you stole. GIVE BACK WHAT YOU STOLE!

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