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Magic.

She looked down at her daughter, eyes now closed in sleep. Anya brushed a curl behind Rosalina’s ear, which shifted from round to pointed. The illusion that kept her appearing human suddenly seemed so wrong. “You don’t belong here any more than I do.”

There was always something pulling Anya away, drawing her home. It had gotten stronger this past year. A feeling she could not ignore for much longer.

It was almost time for the queen to return to her realm.

She narrowed her gaze at her daughter, curiosity brimming. “What could be calling you there, little Rose?”

With a sweep of her hand, she caught the ties of magic that flitted about. Normally, they were invisible, so weak was magic in the human realm, but she could make the powers of the world appear before her if she wished.

But this magic... It was all coming from her daughter.

Five strings of light shot out from Rosalina’s chest.

Five mate bonds.

And Anya could feel it; all of them led to the Enchanted Vale.

A protective growl rose in her chest. “Five mates, little Rose. Let me see if they are worthy of you.”

Briarwood Forest bloomed with new growth, buds of life blossoming from the rain-soaked ground. Anya found what she needed in a thicket of broken brambles. She knelt and dug her hands into the dirt, feeling deep in her bones for a magic she had not touched in so long.

She felt like a cat, stretching after a nap, like the flowers waking from the earth after hiding beneath the soil all winter.

Light blossomed along her arms, and she sighed. Thorns grew from the earth, weaving among each other, buds blossoming into bright red roses.

“Take me home,” she whispered.

The roses moved, tangling among themselves until a hole formed and a breeze wafted through. Sweet and fresh, a smell of air that was not of this world.

Then Anya got on all fours and crawled. She emerged on the side of the mountain, overlooking the Queen’s Realm. A bristle of pride ran through her. Pretty close to Castletree, given she hadn’t used her magic in quite some time.

Queen Anya was home.

Except she wasn’t Anya here. Somehow, in the last few centuries, that name had become more her own than the one she was born with. It was what George knew her as.

“Aurelia.” The name tasted wrong on her tongue. Covered in dust and sand, like a relic in a long-forgotten tomb.

Perhaps something that shouldn’t be dug up.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. A pressure built inside her—to reach out and look at all the threads of life billowing up from every root, every creature. Pressure from herself or from the world around her? What does it matter? It was all the same, wasn’t it? Queen Aurelia was the Vale.

Anya shook her head. She was not here to return as queen. She was here to find her daughter’s mates.

With a wave of her hand, she brought forth the strings of radiance that had sprung from Rosalina. Four of them crested over the horizon, toward Castletree.

And the fifth dipped straight below the earth. Interesting.

Becoming nothing more than a speck of light, she darted through the mountains, found a cavern, and followed its path into the earth’s depths. The suffocating weight of the Below pressed heavily against her magic.

Anya kept tight to the glowing line, though she knew who she would find at its end. The light wove through the underground palace. It was not as she remembered. Pillars were felled, walls crumbled, and piles of rubble covered the ground. Smoke rose from the city of Cryptgarden.

A battle had happened here, and not too long ago.

She continued through the ruins of this once-beautiful place until she entered the prince’s chamber. And there, the light struck a dark-haired boy with lavender eyes.

He had grown into such a fine young man since she had last seen him. Anya’s heart swelled. Mates with Rosalina! When her daughter was older, when they finally met… Perhaps Rosalina can help you in the ways I could not.