Midnight Lies (Shifter Island #2) - Raye Wagner Page 0,13

hand on Honor’s shoulder. As solid as when he’d helped me train.

He met my gaze, and tears filled his eyes.

“Don’t you dare get comfortable, Honor,” I said, pulling him in for a hug. Then I stood, knowing our time was short: “We’re bringing you back to the mortal world. You’ll live again, I swear it. I’m not letting you go. Not like that, you hear?”

Honor swallowed … and then turned to look back over the lake once more.

His dad frowned. “I’m sorry, but … who are you?”

Rage cleared his throat. “Dad, this is Nai Crescent … my fated-mate and an alpha heir. She’s also a high mage heir with the master element of spirit. Nai, this is my dad, Valor Midnight.”

Whoa. Hearing that out loud, from Rage no less… I straightened, trying to find a way to wear all of those titles and still be comfortable. While meeting my mate’s dead father—whose name was Valor.

Awkward.

His dad’s eyebrows hit his hairline, green eyes widening. “Oh.” He stared at me, his jaw moving but no sound coming out for several painful heartbeats. Then, he shook himself and extended his hand. “Nai, it’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Same,” I replied, taking his hand. Just like with Honor, Valor’s grip was solid in mine despite his spectral appearance.

His gaze went over my head briefly then returned to mine, and he grinned. “I think there is someone you should meet.”

Did he know my mother? My mouth went bone dry, and it was my turn to be at a loss for words.

But the former Midnight king wasn’t paying attention to me gaping like a codfish. Instead, he put two fingers to his lips and blew an ear-splitting loud whistle. “Mackay!”

Uncle Mackay! I’d forgotten he was dead too! Spinning around, my excitement drained as I watched my uncle walk toward me, holding hands with a woman … who looked exactly like me. My mother? She had to be. Like me, she was tall and slender with long, silvery-white hair and covered in high mage marks. But … why was she holding hands with my uncle? Why would my uncle and my mother…?

The second my mother saw my face, the color drained from hers, which was saying something considering she was a ghost.

My attention jumped back to their entwined hands, and my stomach turned to stone.

“No,” I breathed, backing up and nearly knocking into Honor.

Uncle Mackay and my mother? I shook my head in disbelief. Either my mother and my uncle had some Realm of the Dead love affair or … or … Uncle Mackay was actually my father…

I gasped, and my mind reeled.

It would explain so much. Like, why my dad had no pictures with my mom, why he never spoke of her, and why he never wanted to talk about what happened. Did he, the man who’d raised me—the man I’d always considered my father—was he my dad? Did he know what had happened? Did he know I was the high crime?

My mom and Uncle Mackay both started running, arms out, reaching for me. Suddenly, I didn’t care about who’d raised me or what really happened or anything. I just wanted to hug them.

“Mom!” I took off running across the grass, tears streaming down my face as my chest heaved, threatening to explode from the emotions rocking me. “Uncle Mackay!”

I never knew them, and yet … I did. All of my father’s stories about them centered around their love for me. So even if I didn’t know them, I loved them. We were all grinning, inches from each other. My heart was so full that I burst into laughter and leapt into the air, preparing to be wrapped in the best hug ever…

And then I was falling.

“No!” I screamed, reaching out as I flailed through empty space.

The light dimmed; blackness stole my vision.

My feet slammed to the ground, jarring my entire being. Screams and howls filled my ears. Acrid smoke singed my nostrils, and I opened my eyes, only to have them burn and fill with moisture from the heavy soot and smoke as well as my emotional pain.

I blinked, turning in a circle, and time seemed to stand still as I took in the destruction and rubble, trying to catch my bearings.

Through the hazy darkness and glowing embers, I spied Rage on my left, holding his ribs. We were back in the magic lands, but… Was this Dark Row?

I glanced down and recognized the white silk of Madame Surlama’s tent. As understanding dawned, I raised