“Fine.”

His mouth quirked before he turned, and Zaiana watched in fascination as the smoke began to shift.

She wandered closer with vacant steps at the impossibility of the moving picture before her. It remained monochrome, but it was wondrous all the same.

“I’ve never shown anyone this before,” he said, the first hint of nerves in his tone.

Zaiana watched the scene through eyes that saw the world from a lower height. She couldn’t guess his age as the memory unfolded from his perspective.

The young fae climbed over a hill before staring at woodland that appeared misty before entering. Past the tree line, Zaiana rubbed her arms subconsciously at the ominous blanket that coated her, as if she were experiencing it for the first time with this fae.

There was no sound to these woods—that was what made every one of his footfalls like a great disturbance to the silence. He stopped walking at the echo of a voice.

“What a brave little thing you are,”the voice cooed.“I’m at a loss with you since one so young doesn’t know true fear yet. What it’s like to love and lose. Need and fail.”

Contrary to its claim, Zaiana was overcome with a prickling terror that belonged to the young fae.

“I could simply deny you, but there is a reason you seek this place so soon. A reason you need it as much as it will need you.”

“I-I just want a place to play,”he said.

“Of course. Such a young heart so alone.”

She couldn’t sympathize with him. She’d grown up surrounded by company she’d had to shield herself from. Other darklings that knew they could end up killing each other one day.

The memory continued.

Zaiana jumped at the sudden crack of lightning. Not in her subconscious, but as part of his vision. Her hand rose to her chest as though the rapid beat were in her too. The young fae took off running when a second crack sounded. He wasn’t fleeing from it—he was trying to find it.

“I’m coming!”he yelled.

“Who are you looking for?” Zaiana breathed, searching the woodland with him, but there was no form nor glimpse of the lightning she could hear.

“I don’t know,” he said, and she believed him. “All I remember is that someone was out there. Someone I wanted to help, and my greatest fear was that I would be too late. I’m most terrified of being the reason people die.”

“I’ll find you!”The young fae’s last call drifted away on a wind that carried the image of breaking light through the grim woodland. One last vibrant stoke of purple lightning scored across…

Zaiana blinked at the returning gloom of her subconscious. She didn’t know what to make of what he’d showed her.

“Why that memory?” she asked.

His head was more bowed than usual. “I think you’re smart enough to figure out a lot from it should you need. It’s vague enough to make it difficult though.”

It shouldn’t mean anything to her, but she was already trying to figure it out. What frightened her was that it had nothing to do with wanting his identity for leverage.

“Is that why you’re fascinated with lightning?”

He huffed. “Maybe. I’ve always quite liked storms, but my mate does not.”

Another clue. Had he meant to slip up?

“Why not?”

He dismissed her question. “Your turn.”

That turned her body taut and her mind to steel.

“Don’t back out on me now,” he warned.