Rowan slept fitfully.
Nothing felt right.
The blankets felt too heavy.
The couch too lumpy.
The air too still.
Finally she drifted into a deeper sleep.
The world shifted into a meadow full of white-gold light. The air hummed familiarily around her. The petals of the wildflowers at her feet shimmered. The sky was an endless twilight, with soft lavender washed with silver at its horizon.
She was back in Thorn's meadow but he was nowhere to be seen.
Instead she followed a path that appeared beneath her feet, gold like her soulmate-bond thread.
At the path's end stood a pedestal that sparkled like starlight, upon it it were three crowns.
- One forged from obsidian and smoke.
- One carved from moonstone and ice
- And the last spun from sunlight so bright it hurt to look at it.
Rowan's breath stuttered in her chest.
She reached out to them, but the pedestal and crowns dissolved and three tall silhouettes rose from them. The edges of the silhouettes were blurred but radiating with ancient power.
A wary understanding came upon her.
Three ancient kings.
Three strings attaching to one golden thread around her heart.
No, it couldn't be... could it?
Then they spoke in harmony with one message: "We are coming. Do not fear us."
Then Elion's voice spoke softly behind her, "Their hearts are yours."
Before she could turn a wind rushed through the meadow.
The silhoettes stepped toward her - reaching.
Rowan gasped when the silhouettes' eyes became clear, glowing crimson.
She stumbled back.
The meadow began collapsing around her.
-ours-
-return - to - us -
-beloved-
Rowan woke with a scream caught in her throat.
Soft gold motes floated above her skin, shimmering away one by one.
Rowan clutched her blankets to her, her heart hammering against her chest.
Three crowns.
Three sets of crimson eyes.
Three kings.
Her soulmate-bond was to the Volturi Kings.