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She felt empty. Lost.
Ever since he’d come back into her life, she’d told herself that they didn’t have a future. But now she realized that she hadn’t really believed that at all. She’d thought it would work out—somehow.
She scrubbed her hands over her face. It was time to get out. Kitty was soaking and probably miserable. Sofia turned off the water and stepped out. First thing, she grabbed her wand and waved it over Kitty, drying her immediately.
Kitty started purring. Normally, it would make Sofia smile. But not now.
She grabbed a towel and wrapped herself up, then dried her hair with her wand. Kitty hopped onto the bed and Sofia followed, falling asleep almost immediately.
The dreams came slowly, through the dark exhaustion that dragged at her. As they coalesced in her mind, Sofia found herself standing atop the Sorcerer’s Tor on Dartmoor.
Malcolm kissed her as the sun set around them, shining its golden rays over the hills and valleys of Dartmoor. Desolate and beautiful.
It was the day they’d gone to pay their respects to his mother and he’d just told her that he wanted to be with her forever.
She fell into the kiss, immersing herself in the dream. If it was going to be the last time she kissed him—even if it was a memory—she wanted to memorize every part of it.
Malcolm was so warm and alive under her hands, strong and powerful and vital. She gripped his big shoulders, pressing herself close, as his mouth took hers.
When he pulled away, her head was spinning. His gaze met hers as he said, “I love you, Sofia.”
Joy suffused her.
Then she woke up, gasping.
The pain hit immediately.
Just a dream. Malcolm wasn’t back with her.
But he’d loved her. He’d probably never stopped loving her, just as she’d never stopped loving him. warlocks shouldn’t love, but fate had been put on hold when he’d tossed her aside in the past. After he’d sought her out again, the wheels of fate had begun to turn.
This had been inevitable.
But it didn’t have to stay that way. Fate could be fought. She might not win, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.
Ten minutes later, as the dawn sun peeked over the canopy, Sofia pounded on Aleia’s door. She pounded until it cracked open.
An exhausted-looking Aleia pulled it open, scrubbing a hand over her eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“Inara. I need to see her.” She stepped into the apartment, which was still in good condition because it was on the second floor, and yelled for Inara.
Her new friend stumbled out of the bedroom, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, her short hair sticking up everywhere. “What?”
“I need your help. I know where the entrance to the sorcerer’s afterworld is. I want you to get me in. I’m going to find Malcolm.”
Inara’s eyes widened. “I can’t. And you couldn’t get him back out anyway. He’s dead.”
“I can try. And even if I can’t get him out, I have to see him.” Her voice broke. “One last time.”
Inara’s face softened. “I’m sorry, Sofia. I’m just a world walker. I can’t bring people to afterworlds or release souls.”
Panic beat in Sofia’s chest. She wouldn’t let this chance escape. “What about my ancestors?”
“That was Vivienne—and she could only get them out for a short while. I was just here to help.”
Sofia nodded. “Vivienne. All right. She lives at the university, right?”
“Yeah,” Aleia said. “I talked to her during cleanup after the battle. She mentioned that she lives in a small yellow cottage on the east side of campus. Purple shutters.”
