Between Dawn and Dusk_ A Prequel (Between Dawn and Dusk #1) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,2

of the word, is one of the worst things I could say, and I’ve uttered it often over the past month.

Ages ago, a fae wizard was struck by lightning. It didn’t kill him. That much electricity isn’t deadly to us, but it does cause temporary paralysis, often affecting our ability to fly. I’ve heard falling to the ground mid-flight is painful, to say the least. After experiencing the extreme inconvenience, the wizard was so offended by the origin of the obscenity, he cast a spell on the word.

Depending on how passionately one says it, an unpleasant static shock is the side effect.

And this time, I really meant it.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing to my sister is the right thing to do, considering my new bad habit has caused her pain, even if it is minor.

She gives my shoulder a forgiving pat. “I thought maybe you’d understand Keryth’s note better than I did. After all, you know him.”

Racking my brain, I try to come up with a reason for the words. Is it a continuation of our promise?

Is it a goodbye?

“Did he seem upset?” I look into Zephina’s violet eyes—the same exact color of mine.

She shrugs. “Surprisingly, no.”

“No?” I frown. “Not even a little?”

She shakes her head. “The interaction was pleasant. He was smiling and laughing with his men as they loaded the supply wagon.”

Smiling and laughing? How is that possible?

Anger flares in me. I’m stuck here, moping and crying, while he’s out there having a grand time with his friends?

I don’t even realize my fire power has activated until Zephina snatches the burning paper from my hand. She pats the flames out quickly with her hands before laying the partially charred note on my dresser.

“Listen.” She turns to me. “You know he’s hurting, too. Just because he doesn’t show his weakness—”

“If he’s able to hide this—” I clutch my empty, aching chest “—then he doesn’t feel for me the way I feel for him. I can’t think about anything else. He fills my dreams, my every waking thought…”

My rant trails off because a sizzle ignites in my veins, and it’s not coming from my powers or profanity.

No, I know this sensation well.

Awareness.

Nearness.

“Keryth,” I breathe out, sprinting to the window.

I’m on the fourth floor, and it’s high enough to survey the palace grounds and the countryside beyond.

I see our brother Zarid in the courtyard. His blond hair glints in the sunlight as he walks with some unsuspecting girl by the large fountain. Flirting. Probably trying to convince her to come to his bed. As if he’ll have to try very hard.

Typical.

Waiting for your fated mate isn’t easy. It takes patience, and some faeries end up holding out for hundreds of years. Others carry on as if they’re in charge of their own destiny. My brother is too arrogant to let anyone or anything decide his future, so he beds any female who so much as breathes his way.

I look out to the road leading into Hailene, but I don’t see a Night Realm caravan. There are a few travelers walking away from the castle, one of my father’s friends riding on a horse, and the regular soldiers stationed in their usual spots.

Nothing seems different, but my heart pounds, like it’s waking up for the first time in weeks.

Suddenly, the bright daylight from our two suns darkens as storm clouds roll in from the east.

When a lightning bolt shoots down and hits the fountain, I flinch from the bright flash. Zarid shouts a few striking obscenities, probably shocking the wits out of his date.

A happy squeal bursts from me.

My mate is coming to the rescue.

I know it’s Keryth; he has the ability to control the weather. We don’t get bad weather here. Occasional rain, yes. But black clouds? No way.

“Quick,” I say to Zephina. “Help me pack.”

After running to the bathroom, she tosses me a bar of my favorite soap and a clean pair of panties. The only bag I have is a small tan leather satchel, and I shove them inside. Then I grab some of the jewelry Keryth gave me, his letter, and the unfinished baby blanket. The yellow yarn takes up too much space, and I won’t have room for clothes.

Oh, well. I glance down at my pink dress. At least I’m wearing one of my best gowns.

I pick up my crown from my vanity and secure it on my head. Looking in the mirror, I admire the way the simple silver band looks against my light hair. It isn’t overly