CHAPTER ONE

The dream began, as it always did, with stars.

Not ordinary stars.

Not the distant pinpricks of light scattered across the night sky above England.

These stars were enormous.

Ancient.

Alive.

They hung above the world like silver lanterns suspended from invisible threads, burning with a brilliance so fierce that looking directly at them felt almost painful.

Eveline stood beneath them alone.

Wind tangled through her dark hair as she stared across a kingdom she had never seen and yet somehow knew.

White cities climbed mountains of crystal.

Forests shimmered beneath moonlit leaves the color of sapphires.

Dragons soared through clouds painted gold by starlight.

Silver rivers wound through valleys like molten glass.

Everything glowed.

Everything breathed.

Everything felt alive.

And at the very center of it all stood a throne.

A beautiful throne.

A terrible throne.

Empty.

Always empty.

Waiting.

Always waiting.

The sight filled her with a strange ache she could never explain.

A longing so deep it felt older than she was.

As though she were homesick for a place she had never been.

Then came the voice.

Soft as a whisper.

Ancient as the stars themselves.

"Come home."

Eveline woke with a sharp intake of breath.

Darkness greeted her.

Rain tapped gently against the window.

The dream vanished almost immediately, dissolving into fragments before she could hold onto it.

The stars disappeared first.

Then the throne.

Then the voice.

Only the feeling remained.

That familiar ache inside her chest.

Eveline groaned and buried her face in her pillow.

"Not again."

The clock beside her bed glowed faintly.

3:17 a.m.

She had been having the same dream for years.

Always the same kingdom.

Always the same empty throne.

Always the same voice.

At this point she could probably sketch the entire place from memory.

Yet she still had no idea why it haunted her.

With a sigh, she sat up.

Moonlight spilled through the narrow bedroom window.

The foster house around her creaked with age.

Somewhere downstairs a pipe rattled.

A dog barked in the distance.

Normal sounds.

Human sounds.

The kind that reminded her she was awake.

The kind that reminded her she was ordinary.

At least, she tried very hard to believe she was.

Eveline crossed the room and stood before the mirror attached to the wardrobe.

The girl staring back looked older than seventeen.

Life had a way of doing that.

Long dark hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders.

Her features were delicate but not fragile.

Sharp cheekbones.

Full lips.

Pale skin.

And eyes.

Always the eyes.

Gray.

Not blue-gray.

Not green-gray.

Silver-gray.

Almost metallic beneath certain lights.

The sort of eyes people remembered.

The sort of eyes that made strangers stare.

She hated them.

Not because they were ugly.

Because they were different.

And being different had never brought her anything good.

She reached for the loose sweater hanging from a chair and pulled it over her head.

Ten more days.

Then she'd be eighteen.

Most people looked forward to turning eighteen.

Freedom.

Independence.

A future.

Eveline wasn't sure what she felt.

Mostly tired.

She had spent nearly her entire life moving from one foster home to another.

Never staying long enough to belong.

Never staying long enough to call anywhere home.

Some families had been kind.

Others hadn't.

Eventually she'd stopped unpacking completely.

It hurt less that way.

The only constant in her life had been her aunt.

If she could even call her that.

Aunt Elara appeared whenever she pleased.

Sometimes after months of silence.

Sometimes after a year.

She would arrive without warning, carrying strange gifts from places she refused to name.

Then she would disappear again before Eveline could ask half the questions she wanted answered.

It drove her insane.

Yet every time her aunt left, Eveline found herself counting the days until she returned.

Because no matter how distant Elara seemed, she was the closest thing Eveline had to family.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the window.

She frowned.

The storm outside was growing stronger.

Lightning flashed across the clouds.

For a split second, the room turned silver.

And something moved.

Eveline spun around.

Nothing.

Silence.

She exhaled slowly.

"You're losing it."

Still.

A strange feeling crawled over her skin.

The unmistakable sensation of being watched.

Not by a person.

By something else.

Something unseen.

The feeling lingered long after she climbed back into bed.

Long after the rain softened.

Long after the house fell silent once more.

Outside, hidden somewhere beyond the veil separating worlds, ancient magic stirred.

The stars continued their slow journey across the sky.

A kingdom waited.

A mystery slept beneath eighteen years of lies.

And somewhere far away, a woman with silver eyes stood before a gateway of light and whispered the name of a girl she had not seen in months.

"Eveline."

Her voice trembled.

Not with fear.

With sorrow.

"Forgive me."

Then she stepped through the portal.

And disappeared.