“Machina.” I shivered, gazing around the empty void, hearing my voice echo all around us. We were alone in the fathomless dark. “Where am I? Why are you here? I thought I killed you.”
The Iron King smiled, silver hair glowing in the utter darkness. “You can never be rid of me, Meghan Chase. We are one, now and forever. You just have not accepted that yet. Come.” He beckoned me forward. “Come to me, my love, and let me show you what I mean.”
I backed away. “Stop calling me that. I’m not yours.” He drifted closer, and I took another step back. “And you’re not supposed to be here. Stop lurking around my dreams. I already have someone, and it’s not you.”
Machina’s smile didn’t falter. “Ah, yes. Your Unseelie prince. Do you really think you’ll be able to keep him once you realize who you really are? Do you think he will even want you anymore?”
“What do you know about that? You’re just a dream—a nightmare, really.”
“No, my love.” Machina shook his head. “I am the part of you that you cannot bring yourself to accept. And as long as you keep denying me, you will never understand your true potential. Without me, you will never be enough to defeat the false king.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Narrowing my eyes, I stabbed a finger at him. “And now, I think it’s time you went away. This is my dream, and you’re not welcome here. Get out.”
Machina shook his head sadly. “Very well, Meghan Chase. If you decide you need me after all—and you will—I will be right here.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I mumbled, and my own voice woke me up.
I BLINKED AND RAISED my head from the pillow. The room was dark, but outside the round loft window, gray light filtered in from a brightening sky. Ash was gone and the space beside me was cold. He’d left sometime during the night.
The scent of bacon drifted up from below, and my stomach grumbled a response. I headed downstairs, wondering who was cooking at such an early hour. The image of Ash flipping pancakes in a white apron came to mind, and I giggled hysterically as I entered the kitchen.
Ash wasn’t there, and neither was Puck, but Grimalkin looked up from a table laden with food. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, biscuits, fruit, and oatmeal covered every surface of the tabletop, along with whole pitchers of milk and orange juice. Grimalkin, sitting on the corner, blinked at me once, then went back to dunking his paw in a glass of milk and licking it off.
“What is all this?” I asked, amazed. “Did Dad cook? Or… Ash?”
Grimalkin snorted. “Those two? I shudder to think of the consequences. No, Leanansidhe’s brownies took care of this, just like they have cleaned your room and made your bed by now.” He observed the opaque white droplets on his paw and flicked them off rapidly.
“Where is everyone?”
“The human is still asleep. Goodfellow has not returned, though I am sure he will sometime in the future, probably with the ire of all the local fey on his heels.”
“I don’t care what Puck does. He can get eaten by trolls for all I care.” Grimalkin seemed unfazed by my hostility and calmly licked a paw. I picked at the scrambled eggs sitting before me. “Where’s Ash?”
“The Winter prince left yesterday evening while you were asleep and said nothing about where he was going, of course. He returned a few minutes ago.”
“He left? Where is he now?”
A thump from the door drew our attention. Paul wandered into the kitchen, shuffling like a zombie, his hair in disarray. He didn’t look at either of us.
“Hey,” I greeted softly, but I might as well have saved my breath. Paul acted like he didn’t hear me. Staring at the laden breakfast table, he picked up a piece of toast, nibbled a corner, and wandered back out, all without acknowledging my existence.
My appetite fled. Grimalkin eyed the glass of milk perched on the corner and tapped it experimentally. “By the way,” he continued as I stared moodily out the door, “your Winter prince wishes you to meet him in the clearing beyond the stream after you have eaten. He implied that it was important.”
I grabbed a bacon slice and nibbled half-heartedly. “Ash did? Why?”
“I did not care enough to ask.”
“What about my dad?” I glanced in the direction Paul had gone. “Will he be safe? Should I just leave him alone?”
“You are terribly dull this morning.” Grimalkin deliberately knocked over the glass of milk and watched it drip to the floor in satisfaction. “The same glamour that keeps mortals out of this place also keeps them in. Should the human go wandering around outside, he will not be able to leave the clearing. No matter the direction he takes, he will only find himself back where he started.”