Wishing for him to find what I’ve found with Damen.

And I leave him with that wish. Leave my star shining high in the sky for as long as it lasts. Watching as they go off in one direction, while Damen and I take another, the two of us strolling hand in hand, quiet and content, as I lead him toward the pavilion.

“Are you sure?” he says, standing just outside of it, clearly conflicted about trying this again.

But I just nod and pull him inside. I’m more than sure. In fact, I can’t wait to get started.

There’s so much about that Southern life we’ve yet to explore, and from what I saw in the Shadowland, there were definitely some really nice parts I’d love to revisit.

I hand him the remote as I stand before the screen, smiling at him as I say, “Just fast-forward to the good part, after you’ve secured my freedom and trust and you whisked me away to Europe…”

Chapter 29

By the time we get out of there I have no idea how much time has passed.

Since Summerland exists in a perpetual mode of hazy daylight where everything happens in an eternal state of now, it’s impossible to tell.

All I know for sure is that my lips are tender and swollen, and my cheeks pink and slightly abraded from the swath of stubble that lines Damen’s jaw—a condition that should disappear in just a matter of seconds.

Far quicker than Sabine’s outrage over my extended absence back home on the earth plane.

Far quicker than Haven’s triumphant glee over thinking she succeeded in killing me.

Still, even though I know I need to get home and face both of those things, I’m reluctant to leave, reluctant to give up the magick so quickly. And since Damen’s clearly reluctant too, he manifests a single white stallion for us to ride. Allowing the horse to meander of its own free will as we enjoy the passing scenery.

I rest my chin on Damen’s shoulder and wrap my arms loosely around his waist as we ride beside swiftly moving streams, down empty cobblestone lanes, through large sprawling meadows filled with chirping birds and deliciously fragrant blooms, alongside the shore of a beautiful beach made of white sand and turquoise waters, up a steep and winding trail that leads to a mountainous peak with a wondrous view, then back down its other side before wading through a barren desert’s sands.

We even ride through the streets of all our former lives, as Damen manifests replicas of Paris, New England, London, Amsterdam, and, yes, even the antebellum South. Going so far as to give me a glimpse of his early life in Florence, Italy. Pointing out the tiny home where he lived, his father’s workshop off the alleyway, the favored stalls where his mother frequently shopped.

He makes fleeting images of his parents, soulless forms that waver in and out of focus before us.

Knowing I’ve seen them before, back when I spied on his life in the Great Halls of Learning but still wanting me to see them as he sees them. Eager to share every last trace of his life, of our shared lives, until there are no secrets between us—until all of it comes neatly together—until the entire story of our lives is complete.

And because I feel closer to him than ever before, because I’m completely secure in the knowledge that we’re in this together for better or worse, I decide to show him something I’d previously kept from him.

Closing my eyes and urging our mount to take us to that place—the dark side of Summerland—the side I kept hidden, kept to myself. Convinced for some reason I can’t quite explain, that now’s the right time to share it with him.

The horse immediately following my lead, instantly switching course as I press my lips to the curve of Damen’s ear and say, “There’s something I haven’t told you—something I need you to see.”

He turns, glancing over his shoulder, smile fading to concern when he takes in my serious gaze.

But I just nod and urge the horse forward, knowing we’re getting closer when his pace begins to slow and I have to urge him to keep going. Knowing by the way the air suddenly changes, the sky darkens, the mist thickens, and what was once a blooming, thriving forest of vibrant plants and flowers becomes a drooping, rain-drenched, mud-filled swamp.

Our horse stops. Swishing his tail from side to side and throwing his head back in protest, refusing to go any farther. And knowing it’s useless to force him, I slide off his back and motion for Damen to join me.

Answering the question in his gaze when I say, “I found this place a while back, the time I was in Summerland with Jude and ran into you. Strange, isn’t it?”

He squints, glancing from the mud-soaked ground to the malnourished trees. Their branches brittle, graying, devoid of all foliage, of any sign of growth or life, despite the never-ending supply of rain.

“What is it?” he asks, still taking it in.

“I don’t know.” I shrug, shaking my head. “Last time I was here, I just sort of stumbled upon it by accident. I mean, I guess it wasn’t really an accident, since there are no accidents here, but still, it wasn’t like I was looking for it or anything. I was just killing time, waiting for Jude to come out of the Great Halls of Learning. And so, just to keep busy, just to have something to do, I asked Summerland to show me the one thing I’d never seen before, the one thing I really needed to know about—and my horse brought me right here. But when I tried to venture farther and explore a little more, she totally refused, just like our horse did now. So I tried to go off on my own, but the mud was so deep I kept sinking down to my knees, and it wasn’t long before I gave up. But then, just now I thought—”