Page 208 of The Edge of Darkness

I kept walking, skirting the faintly shimmering boundary, thinking back to when I had been pulled into these trees, lured by a force beyond my control . . . To find Auren, lying amongst the roots, nearly burnt out from using the power she didn’t even know she possessed.

The net I’d thrown over her wasn’t to hurt her, but to keep her from using her power again—from hurting herself. She’d looked at me with terrified but resilient eyes, and I knew then that she was a fighter, that her spirit matched mine; she was not one to give up easily, and neither was I. So I’d pursued her, alongside that magnetic link between us—the beginnings of the bond.

And now, here I was, waiting for the human queen to show her face so that I could give her an advantage she might need in the coming war. A war that Auren, the human woman I found on the forest floor, a woman with the gods’ blood in her veins, would end.

The slightest tick of a faltering branch brought me to an abrupt halt. It came from up ahead, to my right, across The Veil.

I waited, watching, listening, until I saw movement. A figure in a long, hooded, burgundy cloak swayed near the boundary, peering through the trees to the other side.

It was the queen.

I took a cautious step—careful not to startle her. When she marked my presence, she stilled, her face completely hidden beneath the dark hood. There were no guards with her—I didn’t sense a single soul, other than hers, as I neared. And she carried no weapon . . . that I could see.

Strange of her to be this trusting. I’d hoped she would come unaccompanied. But unaccompanied and unarmed . . .

Perhaps she did know something.

“Queen Corinne,” I said as I came to stand across from her, leaving only The Veil and a few feet on either side separating us.

Delicate, pale hands reached up and pushed back her hood, revealing a soft, gentle face and striking blue eyes, framed by long, black hair. There was no crown on her head, but she held herself with an air of regality and authority, even though her expression erred on the side of worry.

She eyed me with an uncertainty she had every right to have, given who I was. “You are the one who sent the missive?”

“I am. My name is Niall, High Lord of Calledan.”

If she knew anything about my court or territory, she didn’t show it. Pushing her shoulders back, she lifted her chin. “Do you know how long it has been since a fae has made contact with the humans?”

“It is not a human who I sought out,” I answered with a knowing smirk.

Her eyes narrowed. “So, Silas told you everything, did he?”

“He did.”

“And what of Auren? How is she?”

“More powerful than ever.”

She continued to survey me with hesitation. “Tell me, Niall, am I a fool for coming here?”

“No. I am not a threat to you. You have my word.”

She lifted a brow. “You compelled our guards.”

“That was not my doing.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose with a hint of amusement.

“But I will offer an apology on my messenger’s behalf. It was important that the missive went directly to you.”

“Your timing is a bit unsettling. I received your message yesterday evening, and not long afterward, I foresaw an encounter similar to this.”

“You . . . had another vision?”

“A dream this time. I saw a shadow, cloaked in black, standing at The Veil with an outstretched hand. I assume the shadow is you?”

“It’s part of the physical manifestation of my power, yes. Can I ask how often you have these ‘dreams’?”

“More than usual, as of late. Things are changing. Which is why you wanted to speak with me directly, and not the king, am I correct?”