Behind her, Irial broke the silence. “What did you want to discuss? I heard you at the door last night.”

He sounded perfectly calm. He might be half-lost over his feelings, but he didn’t let that show. Both Niall and Irial were cloaking their emotions very efficiently.

Ani felt a curious mix of sadness that Irial felt the need to hide his feelings and pleasure that he’d trusted her enough to let her see them last night. If Niall was paying attention, he’d realize that Irial’s gift of his court and his ongoing advice was a love sonnet.

The leather sofa creaked as Niall sat down. “I hate you sometimes.”

As Ani left the room, she heard Irial ask, “And the rest of the time?”

She didn’t stay to hear that answer. Sleep was more important than knowing secrets that weren’t her concern. It was too early for anything other than crawling into bed.

Ani had only just drifted off to sleep when she found herself sitting in a cave. “What here doesn’t belong? Stalactites, stalagmites, straw and organ formations, girl in ball dress? Hmmm.”

Rae smiled. “Hello, Ani.”

“Not in the mood for this.” Ani walked out of the cave, away from the dark-haired girl she’d dreamed of for most of her life. “Dreaming you, naming you, a freaking figment of my imagination… it’s a sign of insanity or something.”

“You’re certainly an odd one.” Rae had followed her. “You’re not crazy, though. Maybe I’m as real as you.”

Ani glared at her, but didn’t reply. There were times when Ani almost liked dreaming about her pretend friend, but this morning wasn’t one of them. She was on edge, feeling a little worried, and just not in the mood for whatever nonsense she would think with a Rae Dream. Somewhere over the years, she’d decided that her Rae Dreams meant questioning herself or thinking about things in different ways than typically made sense. The first Rae Dream was when Jillian died, and since then, when Ani was out of sorts, she’d almost always dreamed about Rae.

“Poor thing,” Rae whispered. “Are the restrictions too much? Can you talk to Gabr—”

“No. Yes, but that’s not the point.” Ani crossed her arms over her chest. “I met someone. He was… different.”

Since it was a dream, Ani imagined him. Instantly, he appeared before her, as solid in appearance as her imagined confidante—but not wearing bizarre garb like Rae did.

Rae gasped. “Oh.”

“I need to stay away from him.” Ani looked away from the image. “I don’t want to hurt him, Rae, and he has my blood. If he finds me, Irial will…” Even in a dream, the words weren’t ones Ani wanted to say.

Rae took Ani’s hands and held them tightly. “Trust yourself, Ani.”

The world around them vanished, and Ani was standing in a white void with only Rae in front of her.

“Call your wolves, Ani.” Rae’s voice echoed in the white expanse.

For a moment, Ani couldn’t respond. My wolves?

“Look for them, Ani,” Rae insisted. “Why do you dream of wolves?”

The wolves appeared, growling.

“Now, let them in, Ani. They are a part of you.”

“No. I’m the daughter of the Dark Court, so I dream of the Hunt.” Ani watched the wolves solidify all around her. “They are dreams. I dream of the Hunt… but I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“You do belong. This is the New Hunt, Ani.” Rae stayed away from the wolves. “Now that you’ve seen him again, everything will change.”

One by one, the wolves dove into Ani’s chest. They disappeared into her body as they had so many times before. It was an odd sensation, the fur and muscle entering her dream self.

“What are you, Rae?” Ani felt herself growling, felt the wolves inside of her snarling.

The wolves matter. Not Rae.

She pushed away the confusion of Rae’s words and let the sensation of wolves overwhelm her. They wanted her in their pack. She belonged.

If only I could take them to the waking world…

Chapter 11

Rae returned to Faerie, to the cave that was her home. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone: the Eolas, the keepers of knowledge, were waiting. Rae shuddered. The Eolas had the ability to assure both endings and beginnings, to tie or to sever connections.

The three women glared at her. Each woman cycled through youth, adulthood, and seniority, as well as through species. On the left, a gray-skinned woman stood with her arms folded over her chest; in the middle, a transparent girl cocked her head assessingly; and on the right, a small leafy creature watched with no discernible expression.

“Do not interfere again—”

“—based on what you know—”

“—of what they are.” They each spoke a part of the sentence.

Rae squared her shoulders to hide the shakes that threatened her.

They moved closer in tandem, as if they were parts of one body. “No one knows their own future.”

“Not even him.”

“Especially not him.”

They all stepped back. Two retreated farther, so the translucent one stood in the forward point of their triangle. “We allowed you to know. That was more than fair exchange.”

“It’s not.” Rae fisted her hands.

“Your knowing saved the Hound’s life, and without her, he cannot become what he is to be.” The leafy one rustled with each word. “If you speak what you know, you will die, and he will fail.”