*Ryatt* Don’t come for me. Those words haunt me as I pick through the forest. Six of my men–my closest, most trustworthy warriors–fan out around me in a wide semi-circle, leaving no stone, twig, or bush unturned. It’s been days, and there’s no sign of Ella. Nothing. Nothing of her, or the maid that flung herself at us right as I used the full force of my powers to spirit us away to Eastonia. Don’t come for me… “There’s nothing here, Ryatt,” Granger says nearby. He stands to his full height, his golden hair gleaming in the sunrise streaming through the tree top. Green eyes meet mine, heavy with annoyance. “Maybe this is a good thing.”“I know,” I agree, but the words leave a bitter taste on my tongue. I hadn’t wanted to do this. I’d bucked against my destiny at every turn. Going to King Isaac’s ball four or five years ago had only made me more steadfast in my decision that I had to find another way to defeat my father without using Princess Ella as the weapon she was born to be.

*Ella*I shove Ryatt away from me, putting several feet of distance between us. I can still feel his touch on my chin from when he’d inspected the bruising on my cheeks. I realize with a start it had been only the second time we’d ever touched, the first being when I placed my hand in his hand when he’d come to take me home, to take me here. Now, I’ve shoved him. That’s the third time we’ve touched. Maybe, hopefully, the last. At least, I tell myself that. Seeing him in the flesh is incredibly unnerving. The sharp angles of his devastatingly handsome face draw me in, and those eyes? They’re magnetic. But being drop dead gorgeous only gets you so far in life. “I told you to stay away from me.”One dark brow arches, and his eyes narrow with obvious frustration. “You said, ‘Don’t come for me.’ What makes you think I’m here for you, Princess?”I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why else would you be here? I didn’t need your help with anything.”“Oh, really?” He looks down at the pile of as

*Ella*By all accounts, the village we arrive in under a cloak of inky, starless darkness looks like a small town somewhere in my brother’s territory. Streetlights cast a wide, crumbling gravel street in muted light, and buildings made of wood and stone rise in the distance along curved roads. A narrow, lazy river winds through the village. We cross several bridges, our footsteps the only sound. Our group has been broken into smaller parties of three or four people, everyone in their human forms, everyone acting like they’re simply out on a midnight stroll. As we walk further into the village, the buildings start to group closer together, and noise begins to cut through the hushed night air. There are no cars to be seen, but lighted signs and the sound of electricity buzz as we pass shops and what I believe are apartments. It’s like home, but… different. Less polished, less refined. Less modern, I realize. I stare up at one streetlight as I pass beneath it and see the same strange,

*Ella*Granger drags me by the arm through the dense forest, his other hand clutching Amanda by the back of her shirt–something that hangs off her slight frame–likely belonging to one of Ryatt’s men–as he guides us away from the camp. Behind us, the sounds of battle ring through the forest. I barely have a moment to swallow, let alone think, or even catch my breath, before Granger shoves us both into a clearing that descends into a shadowed clump of tangled alders. I glance at the dark, shadowed recesses beyond the trees. A strange sensation drifts over my skin as the shadows seem to shift, beckoning me toward them. A shiver licks up my spine, making me wince and tear my eyesight from the trees back to Granger, who is currently shaking Amanda by the shoulders as he loudly, and sharply, scolds her. “You will stay with Ella, do you understand?”“Get off of me you fucking brute!” she hisses, shoving him away. He grabs her by the front of her shirt and pulls her back to him, leaning

*Ella*Three days passed. Three days we spent hiding in the cave waiting for Granger then running like hell to Granite Rise at his behest. The rest of the time we spent sitting around with no news about what happened in the clearing after Ryatt forced us to leave. For three days, I’ve gone over every harsh word I’d ever said to him, wondering if I’d been wrong. We’ve been in Granite Rise for a little over twenty-four hours now. I’ve barely left the house–Amanda’s parents’ house–since we arrived. Hannah continues her endless slumber in a bedroom downstairs, overseen by the occasional healer who dribbles water and broth into her mouth just to keep her alive. She still has that sleepy smile on her face, but her skin has become pale and glassy, and her once bright, tightly curled pale golden hair is now lackluster. I move away from her bed for what feels like the hundredth time today, my finger curling around the doorknob as I glance at her over my shoulder one last time before I forc