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If you’ve ever tried to hide a pregnancy, you know the signs. So, pancakes or waffles with your sausage?”

Pancakes make me think of Aiden, how he’d made some the night he’d agreed to drink the unbinding syrup and severed the oath he’d made to me. How would things have been different if he hadn’t done that?

I can’t think about Aiden without feeling sick again. Gods, how will I tell him? Will I get the chance to tell him?

“Waffles,” I say. “Can I help with anything?”

She shakes her head. “Be ready in a few.”

We listen to her footsteps recede.

Chloe rises from the foot of the bed. “See why I always told you that you have good in you?”

“I do.” There is a stray thread at the corner of the bedspread and I fidget with it. “Chloe, do you know where Aiden is?”

She glances away. Confirmation.

“Tell me.”

“Right this moment, I don’t know. But he was in Asgard.”

“Asgard? The realm of the gods?” As far as I know, Aiden hasn’t been back to Asgard since he was changed and his father had been imprisoned. “What’s he doing there?”

Chloe looks pained. “Don’t ask me, Nic.”

I narrow my gaze on her. “I don’t like your tone. Tell me, is he in danger?”

She shakes her head, red-gold curls bouncing. “No. In fact, the gods are worried that Underhill is hunting Aiden so she can release the trickster.”

Then at least he would be safe. Unless that cursed pantheon turned on him again. “I’m worried about these dreams, about what they mean.”

She frowns. “What’s the common thread you’re seeing?”

“My mother.”

We both know I’m not talking about Sophie.

“You’re in charge, Nic. But you have the heirs to three of the four thrones. From the message the ghost sent, the fourth, your pal Taj, is in the Vanir lands.”

“We can’t trust Nightweaver. She’s reporting back to Underhill.”

Chloe’s eyes go wide with alarm.

Uh oh. “Have you seen her? Did you tell her where we are?”

She shakes her head. “No, but if she does discover this pocket realm, Underhill will recruit a giant to come in after us.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. “We need to leave before Nightweaver comes back.”

Chloe throws her hands in the air in obvious frustration. “And go where? Underhill is out of the question. As soon as we leave here then Agent Hanson will be up our asses. We don’t have a lot of options, Nic.”

She’s right, I know it and yet after watching Astrid die, I don’t want any more innocents getting caught up in my nightmare.

My aunt rubs a hand over her face. “Think about what I said. Addy didn’t sacrifice herself so that you and your baby wind up in Underhill’s clutches.”

With that, she leaves me to dress.

After breakfast, I follow my brother out onto the beach. Heavy clouds are stacking up to the east and the wind is sharp off the water. I’m happy to be outside though where the breeze can kiss my face and I can breathe in all the scents of the season.

My season. At least it had been.

“Why do you look so sad, Nic?” Tate tilts his head to the side.

“I have some friends who I miss is all.” Nahini, Jasmine, Freda. Aiden.

He nods as if this explanation is sufficient. “Want to see my fort?”

“Sure.” I allow him to take my hand and lead me to a copse of scrubby bushes, where a scraggly looking treehouse is perched.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool.” I smile at the no girls allowed sign. “What do you have against girls?”

“That’s just to keep mom out. She always wants to tidy up.”

He drops my hand and starts to clamber through the brush.

“Be careful,” I say.

“Of what?”

“Snakes?” I suggest.

“They’re all in dens for the winter. It’s okay. I do this all the time.”

Still, nervous knots twist low in my belly as I watch him disappear into the tangle of nature. If I had my magic…no. I need to get used to living without it. I am no longer a queen, no longer able to wield the power of the Shadow Throne or harness the gifts of the Unseelie Court. I’m just plain old Nic. Soon to be an unwed teenage mother with no high school diploma.

Statistics are a bitch.

“Come on,” the small head pokes out through the open door.

I am wearing jeans and a sweater borrowed from Sophie along with Chloe’s trench coat. I don’t feel like getting snagged in that there briar patch. “What happened to no girls allowed?”

“You’re not a girl,” he waves off my protest. “You’re my sister.”

My heart clenches. Claimed as family, like it isn’t a huge freaking deal. Before I can think better of it, I say, “Okay, I’m coming in.”

Carefully, I make my way up the bramble path and into the fort. It’s not exactly structurally sound but it’s all Tate’s. I can appreciate that. “Did your dad help you build this?”

He gives me a gap-toothed grin. “Yup. He showed me how to hammer the boards together and everything.”

“Tools, very cool.”

“Have you ever built anything?”

I think about it for a beat. “No, I’m not much of a builder.”

“I can show you.”

“Nic? Where are you?” Another voice calls from nearby.

I poke my head out the window and see Angrboda striding across the seagrass from the house. “Here.”

Turning back to the small boy I say, “I gotta go. Thanks for showing me your fort.”

“Wait, I’ve got something for you.” He fishes inside an old metal lunchbox until he comes up with a pretty white and pink seashell. “Here.”

I take it from him, a small smile on my lips. “Thanks, kid.”

I take care climbing out and wipe my eyes when I reach the edge of the brambles at the same time as the giant.

“Have you been crying?” she asks.

“The wind is in my eyes.”

She doesn’t call me on the obvious lie as we fall into step along the line of frigid sand. “I wanted to tell you I’ve put out feelers for where Astrid came from and that boy you mentioned, Declan?”

“And?”

She shakes

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