The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,2
enough trouble blinding innocent kings, they still won’t give up their vengeful ways thousands of years later. Because of them, the mysterious plague that once almost decimated the female population in the Day Realm returned a few years ago, resulting in the loss of mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters.
And that’s only led to more abductions than ever before. The men want women, and they’re willing to steal them from other realms, even at the risk of getting caught and executed.
Glow addictions are becoming more prevalent every day. The amplified power and strength it gives the user is unnatural. Once someone gets a taste of it, they want more and more and more. When King Zander created the stuff, his desperate attempt to save the dying women in his kingdom didn’t turn out the way he’d hoped. He might’ve invented the concentrated day water with good intentions, but it ended up being a weapon of mass destruction instead of a cure.
I could really use my parents’ advice right now.
“I’ve been naïve,” I admit to my father, sighing heavily. “I’d foolishly thought I could maintain peace in our kingdom for as long as I reign. There was another Glow explosion yesterday. Three casualties. These idiots keep hiding their distilleries underground, and they don’t realize there’re traces of stardust all over the Dream Realm. If one drop of distilled day water falls in the wrong place, the whole factory blows up, and everyone’s bodies go with it. I feel like I’m failing our people. I’ve utilized as many soldiers as I can to try to find the distilleries and shut them down before too much damage can be done, but it’s not enough. What else can I do?”
Of course, I get no reply, and I look at my gloomy father. “Aren’t we the depressing duo?”
After a few moments of silence, he checks his watch.
My heart speeds up. He only does this when he has a message for me. Every half hour, he’ll relay it, hoping I’ll drop in at some point to hear the news.
I’m going to guess it isn’t a happy report.
I don’t care.
I’ll take what I can get.
He waits until the second hand makes it to the twelve, then he speaks. “Damon, if you’re here, I have something to tell you. I’ll just come out with it. Your mother and I found your mate.”
Shooting to my feet, I suck in a breath so fast I almost inhale my own tongue. “Well, why do you look so damn sad, then?”
“We needed the help of a witch,” he goes on, unaware of the way I’m frantically pacing in front of him. “I know I said I’d never work with one again… but we got desperate.”
“Is that wise? What did you have to offer in exchange? Was it a human witch?”
My questions go unanswered.
“Don’t worry about us,” he says vaguely. “Whatever the cost, it’s worth it. Because this—” His hand swings toward the dirt path. “—is Whitley Duvall.”
At first, I don’t see anything. Then a form begins to appear. The body is blurry, but the face sharpens.
Her eyes are the purest blue, like the Day Realm sky at noon. The outer part of the iris is bright and pigmented, while the inner area fades to a colorless crystal. Long, dark eyelashes flutter over her high cheekbones when she blinks. Her skin is tan but free of freckles, which I find odd considering she has red hair. Long sunset-colored locks hang down past her chest.
There’s an overexaggerated indent in her chin. It’s not a defined line—more of a mix between a cleft and dimple. It looks like the perfect place to put my thumb so I can angle her face toward mine for a kiss.
And her mouth. It’s plump and pink, with a crease in the middle of the bottom lip and a distinct cupid’s bow on top. When she smiles, her happiness is the most radiant sight in all the realms. Her straight white teeth practically glow, and twin dimples appear in her cheeks.
“Whitley,” I mouth, barely even a whisper. “My lovely mate.”
I fall to my knees as I continue to study the woman who was made just for me. There’s no creature more gorgeous than her.
You’ll see her in someone else’s dreams.
The second part of the clue has finally come to pass. I’ve visited the minds of thousands of strangers. All along, it was my own father who would show her to me.