The guys had warned her over and over never to trust anyone from the Primordial World. She’d foolishly listened to her instincts instead of their sage advice and now was paying the price, barely resisting the urge to scratch her back.
She couldn’t help but wonder how much her decision to help the bird would cost her.
Ward cast her a concerned, questioning look, and she shook her head slightly. There was nothing either of them could do. She would just have to wait it out and pray she wouldn’t come to regret her decision to help a wounded creature.
The fog around them increased gradually, snaking its way through the trees so subtly that she was startled when she saw it was everywhere.
Morgan wasn’t sure if she would even have noticed if it wasn’t for the way the elves were acting. They gathered closer, tightening their formation, picking up their pace, as if they were slowly being overwhelmed by terror.
She slowed her steps, curious to see what had motivated her cousin to hunt her down and try to sacrifice her so he could escape it. When she edged closer to a dense patch of fog, she noticed something weird about the mist.
It followed her movements like an animal locked on its prey.
She couldn’t see anything physically controlling its movements. No, it was more like the fog hosted a hungry parasite, and it had located its next meal. Just being near the mist sent nausea curling through her gut, and her skin flinched as if trying to pull itself off and run away.
Ward grabbed her arm when she lifted her hand to investigate. “You don’t want to do that.”
She watched the shrub next to them shudder as the fog slowly engulfed it. “What’s happening?”
When he didn’t answer, she glanced back at him, not reassured by his disturbed expression. “Watch.”
The leaves shriveled first, drifting to the ground like dust. The branches cracked with a loud snap, until only a snarl of twigs remained, the once robust plant resembling a thorny mess of brambles. Only then did the dense mist lift.
The fog didn’t suck the life out of the plant, but more like removed the magic and returned the once-beautiful shrub back to its original, deadly shape.
Morgan couldn’t help wondering if the fog was remaking the realm into something darker, or if it was returning the place to its original state and revealing the truth underneath all the magic the twelve families used to make the world habitable for themselves.
Now another force was determined to remove every trace of their work.
And if it could twist a plant like that, what would it do to the native wildlife, not to mention people?
“What the hell just happened?”
“This realm isn’t like Earth,” he chided her. “It was built by magic. The people of this place have taken too much. If this realm is to survive, a balance must be achieved—it’s taking back the magic.”
Morgan flinched at his harsh tone, disturbed not only by his uncaring attitude, but by what he was suggesting.
“Are you saying the fog will consume anything magical…including people?” She wanted him to deny it. Now they were so close to the fog, she could sense something twisted and malevolent hiding in the white folds. Even as she watched, a wisp of the fog broke off from the rest, then lashed out, almost faster than her eye could track, reaching for her.
Ward jerked her back, but not before she sensed a horrible wrongness in the mist.
Whatever that was, it wasn’t fog.
“The fog is a defense system, but it must be broken, tainted by something.” Ward released her but didn’t leave her side.
“We move. Now!” The leader of the elves slammed the end of his staff into her back, forcing her to move, treating Ward much the same way.
It took all her restraint to keep from grabbing the staff and ramming it up his ass.
She must have telegraphed her thoughts, because Ward stepped between her and the next not-so-gentle prodding. Suddenly worried about her team, she reached for the bonds again, then noticed the direction of the connection had split.
While she was still drawn forward, she also felt a tug in the opposite direction…away from the way they were heading.
When she would’ve veered off in that direction, Ward grabbed her arm. “The outpost is ahead.”
No matter how hard she tried to shrug him off, she couldn’t break his grip. “Something’s wrong. We need to go in the other way. Part of my team is out here.”
And they didn’t know about the dangers.
She had to warn them.
“And they would want you safe.” He shrugged, completely unconcerned about her men being in danger. Only when she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind did he sigh and relent. “No doubt they sense you as well and know you are heading back toward the castle. They will follow you. If you go after them, your stubbornness will put them in more danger. Is that what you want?”
No, but the idea of abandoning them didn’t sit right with her either, and she wanted to smack him for being so reasonable.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“It’s one of the outposts farthest from the capital—or it had been in my day.”
Which gave her exactly no information, and she gave up trying to pump him for more. Getting answers from him was like trying to squeeze water out of a rock.
The hellhound, who had been steadily keeping pace with them, suddenly veered left, launching himself in the direction of her men. She barely resisted taking off after the beast, the need to protect Ascher nearly overwhelming.
Morgan didn’t know if the mating marks were enforcing the compulsion.
She no longer cared.
Those men were hers, even if they no longer wanted her.
To take her mind off her worry, she concentrated on what she could control…her surroundings.
The fog seemed to trail after them, not actively pursuing, more like keeping an eye on them.
“What happens if the fog touches you?”
“You die,” one of the guards snapped, glancing at her like she was an idiot.
The Headmistress only told Morgan that she could put this world to rights, but Morgan didn’t have a damned clue what the Headmistress meant, or how she was to go about saving their realm from extinction.
“Does it have any weaknesses? When does it…hunt?” She needed to understand what was happening if she wanted to have any hope of solving the problem.
And she suspected Ward knew a lot more than he was saying.
“The mist rises at twilight and dissipates at sunrise,” the same elf reluctantly volunteered.
“So…similar to normal mist.” Which didn’t get her anywhere.
Ward gave her a weird glance, and she felt like she was missing something important. “You said that this realm was built.”
“Many millennia ago.”
She waved away his history lesson, then paused. Anything that old could only have been built by one thing…the old gods.
Her ancestors.
She barely held back a wince.
“What happens to the fog in the daylight? It doesn’t just fade.”
The talkative elf, the one who’d spoken less than a handful of words, answered. “The mass collects at the center of the forest, where the sun doesn’t reach.”
Before he could say more, the leader glared at him, then jerked his chin, and the talkative one moved toward the front of the line.
Her brows furrowed as she puzzled over his answer. When she glanced at Ward, she noted how he studiously avoided looking at her. “Where the sun doesn’t reach? Or where it collects to protect something that wants to remain hidden?”
A small smile curled the corners of his mouth, only to vanish a second later, and she knew she was on the right track.
Then there was no more time for questions.
They broke into a clearing, and she caught her first glimpse of the outpost.
It was a castle.
The necklace slithered across her collar, the links stretching thin until the chain disappeared into her shirt, becoming invisible to anyone who didn’t know to look for it.