Unedited. 

The prologue would be worth remembering before reading this. 

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When Rebecca opened her eyes, she was afraid of what she'd see. A jail cell? A wall of fire? Mikael? The king?

The first thing she noticed—when she finally able to open her eyes — was that she felt dizzy, like she'd started to spin in a never ending circle.

There were trees around her and they started to spin, leaves melting into one warped green. She blinked rapidly, trying to dislodge the fantasy. She wasn't in a forest. Before she'd passed out she'd been in a hallway, wall of fire at one end, murderous security guard at the other. No forest in sight.

"Did you hear that?" The whispered voice was frantic and distinctly male. "Something rustled in the bushes."

"You're hearing things." This voice was feminine, unusually deep. "It's nothing. Come on, we have more important things to patrol than searching the woods for a noise you think you heard."

Rebecca felt a foreboding sense of déjà vu. Once again, they were talking about her. She was sick of faeries trying to hunt her down like an animal. The whispers. The hiding. She wanted to be free of it, away from all the faeries out of get her.

It sounded so ludicrous, she wanted to deny. But she'd passed the point of denial long ago. Now she just had to face it. They were after her, because she was the princess of the Light Fae. She had parents she'd never met, and now she'd never get the chance. Mikael wasn't a seventeen-year-old — he'd fought through a war (and she'd laughed it off when he'd said it in an offhand comment).

Now, Rebecca just wanted to know why. Regardless of the fact that she knew she had parents, they'd still abandoned her. They weren't around anymore to give an excuse, which Rebecca was undecided whether it was good or not.

"I'm not hearing this. I heard it."

"Geraldo, shut up. Do you want to be the one telling the king we couldn't finish patrol because of a disturbance in a bush?"

"What if—"

"I don't have time for this. We have to report to the General in twenty minutes."

"Surely someone's found her. If she's anything like their queen was, I don't even want to meet her. The faster they take her out, the better. Then the king can take over."

If Rebecca had her way, no one would be taking her out.

As vertigo returned, she glanced around. The voices still filtered in but she barely heard them. Underneath her was deep red dirt, riddled with sticks and stones. She was surrounded by large trees, currently lying over one of the trunks. It dug into her back painfully.

Clearly, she was in a forest. If she was lucky — which was highly doubtful, but she was remaining optimistic — it was the same forest she'd come in. That meant the portal was close by. She had no idea how it worked, but she wasn't going to let it get to her.

How she'd gotten here, she had no idea. But, if her suspicions right — and as crazy as the idea was — that meant she'd teleported. She'd been in a hallway and now she was in a forest. It was the only possible explanation.

She'd teleported.

Rebecca had no idea if that was even the name, but she wanted it to be true. Because, if it was, then it was amazing . . . out of this world.

If she died, after all of this, at least she could say she could teleport. No one else could say that.

"Listen, Eralin. There it was again. I'm going to check it out."

The woman sighed. "Fine, it's your funeral."

It was then that Rebecca heard heavy footsteps. Boots crunching on dirt, rocks shattering like lightning. Footsteps getting closer to her.

Rebecca wanted to scramble to her feet, but she knew, if she did they'd know where she was. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to figure out how she'd teleported before. Hallway, she thought, imagining the hallway. Next she tried the get to a bedroom. Then a kitchen.

She had no idea what she was doing and it showed. She was getting nowhere.

"I see a foot! Someone's here!"

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she didn't dare move her foot. Her hands shook as she held herself up, staring down at her Converse covered foot.

Mikael, she thought bitterly, needing someone to blame. He was an easy target. It was his fault she couldn't teleport. He'd put her in this situation—

"General? Eralin, it's the General!" The male — Geraldo — paused. "Sir, what are you doing here?"

The voice was close. So close. Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut. Of course, Mikael had turned up.

Now she was done for, no way out.

"Sir, why're you lying there? Here — I'll help you up."

Rebecca saw a hand wave in her face. She forced uneven breaths, in fear of suffocation. Then she looked up. Geraldo stood there, staring down at her. His long hair was pulled back into a bun, thick eyebrows raised. His skin was dark, almost the hue of his brown eyes. Black clothes adorned his body, the uniform all the other soldiers wore.

"Sir . . ." The hand waved around, Geraldo's face becoming unsure, before he hastily dropped his hand and stepped back. "Are you okay, sir?"

Rebecca glanced around, looking for Mikael. She didn't see him, but she did see Eralin, who'd joined them. Apart from the ponytail and fringe covering her forehead, she looked almost identical to Geraldo—

Then she caught sight of her foot, and he mouth went slack in shock. There was no converse on it, instead a heavy black boot.

Her foot had . . . disappeared.

Rebecca caught sight of her legs. Dark jeans covered them, thicker than her legs. More muscular.

Suddenly, it all added up. They were calling the General. Her foot wasn't her own, nor were her legs.

She'd somehow turned into Mikael. Transported and changed bodies in one go . . . Rebecca was on a roll. Now, she just had to calm down so panic didn't drive her to do anything dumb.

"Sir . . ."

Rebecca nodded, before clearing her throat. "Yes?" She jumped, lifting a shaking hand to touch her face. She felt stubble, thick eyebrows and short hair. She was Mikael. She looked like him and she sounded like him.

It was, by far, the most unnerving experience of her life.

But she went with it, fight kicking in — winning over flight. "What am I doing?" she asked. Her voice was Mikael's though, deep, rich and low. "Is that any of your business? I don't think so. You're on patrol duty. Did you decide to stop for a reason?"

Both of them stepped back like she'd burned them. Eralin stammered, "We're sorry, sir. We'll get back to patrol."

"No." Rebecca was surprised she'd said the word. When she said it, people still walked all over her. When Mikael said it, however, both of them acted as if god had spoken the word — an order that couldn't be refused.

"Sir . . ." Eralin clutched her hands in front of her, wringing them nervously. "Of course, sir. You have another job?"

No, she didn't have another job. She was making it up as she went. It was working though, so she went with it. "First, I need to stand up." Thankfully, Eralin took the hint, reaching out her hand. Rebecca stood with the help of it, trying to still her quivering legs. "Now, you're both back on patrol. The meeting is still in twenty." When they stood there, she barked, "Go."

They didn't question her, just turning around and walking away. Rebecca was amazed. Mikael's soldiers were as loyal to him as a hound was to its owner. They didn't question a thing. Fear had to be the driving reason.

"Wait!" Rebecca called. They turned, both raising an eyebrow. The salute they gave her was unnerving. "No one finds out I'm here. If anyone does, I'll know you told them."

The threat hung in the air and Rebecca watched them both swallow. Then their hands fisted over their hearts and they nodded, as if they were swearing an oath.

The knowledge made some of the suffocating air disappear. If Mikael found out the he was somehow in a forest, when he clearly wasn't, her act would be up.

When they were gone, she planned. She had no idea how long this body swapping was going to last — and how long it would take her to get used to it. So, she had to make the most of it, before her time ran out.

The portal or the streets . . . she weighed her options. For one, she had no idea where the portal was and how she'd open it. So, that wasn't going to work in her favour. But it was less exposure than she'd get on the streets. If someone saw her — as Mikael — she had no doubt he'd find out somehow.

Taking a risk wasn't her strongpoint.

But, right now, she was going to take one. The streets meant more options of escape, so that's where she was going to go, risks be damned. She could run, if push came to shove. Besides, she was Mikael — the General they feared, according to him. They'd cower under her presence alone.

Mind made up, Rebecca started to weave through the trees. The problem was that the furthest she walked, the more everything warped together. She didn't know whether she was going backwards or forwards, or if she was even in the right direction.

She strained her ears, wishing she'd attended the survival classes. Far off, in the north — if that was where she thought it was — she could hear faint voices. So she wandered in that directing, all the while stepping over fallen tree branches and avoiding spider webs.

The voices were getting loud. Rebecca's nerved calmed down, no longer about to boil over and explode—

Until she rammed into another person.

Her heart sank, and she hastily let go of the vice-like grip she had on the others persons' arms. Then she looked up, eyes wide.

Jackson Nicholas stood in front of her, his body so close she could feel his breath. Unlike him, Rebecca had forgotten to breathe, all air robbed from her lungs.

As if her touch burned, Jack stepped back, arms raised defensively. Rebecca shrank back, intimidated by his side. The first time she'd met him, she'd guessed his profession to be a boxer. Now, she was sure she'd been right.

The question of what he was doing there remained.

As it dawned on her, she decided she was sick of people betraying her. All along, he'd been working with Mikael, trying to gain her trust. Now it made sense — the fact that he'd checked up on her constantly, asked way too personal questions.

She didn't know why she was surprised.

He leant in closer, going chest to chest with her (with Mikael). "This going to be a fair fight, or are you going to have one of your soldiers fight your battles?" he said, voice low and carefully controlled.

Rebecca shook her head rapidly, anger quickly replaced by fear. "No . . . don't fight. Please." The plea was redundant, considering it was Mikael's deep voice speaking, not hers. "I'm not Mikael. I'm not."

He stepped back, with a frown. "Who're you then?"

Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut. "Rebecca Morley," she blurted, knowing she was being an idiot. Telling the person that was after her who she was wasn't smart. Fear always made fore-thought fly out the window though. "I'm not Mikael."

There was a rough sigh, as if her confession had somehow been a relief. Then arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. She fought with renewed vigour, legs kicking out. Jack did nothing but hold her, murmuring into her hair, voice tight.

"Thank the Queen you're safe," he muttered. "As soon as I found out you went with him, I was terrified . . ."

Rebecca wrestled against him, breaking out of his hold. She glared, arms raised defensively. "You knew from the beginning. My parents let you into their home. And the whole time, you were working with him. Don't come near me, I'm warning you now."

His arms settled at his sides, the white t-shirt bunching over his muscled arms. Dark jeans covered his legs. He looked . . . different. "I'm not the enemy, Becca. Listen to me. I have to get us out of here before they catch you. You're our last hope and I'm responsible for getting you home."

Clearly, he was insane. There was no way she was going with him, anywhere. "Get away from me," she snapped, stepping back.

He sighed. "Okay, you want to the truth?" Rebeca didn't nod, she just glared back. He ignored her lack of answer. "I'll give you the truth. My name's not Jackson Nicholson, its Ferro DeSantos, first guard to the late Queen Juliette IV — your mother."

"I'm willing to believe that I'm the heir to some throne because Faeries are currently hunting me. But, what you just told me, is insane."

He blinked, then Rebecca watched him disappear in a flash. Left behind was a pair of footprints on the floor. Before she had the chance to run, he was back, standing there as if he'd never disappeared.

Only he didn't look like before. Now his hair was salt-and-pepper grey, his face older, though he was far from elderly. Stubble covered his chin. He was bulkier than before, taller too, easily towering over Rebecca. His clothes remained the same, but he looked deadly now. Rebecca waited for him to reveal a weapon.

Quickly, as if he was being watched, he looked around, eyes sharp. "Okay, I can't stay like this for long. Take it all in."

Rebecca didn't have time to take it all in.

Before she could even begin to wrap her head around the fact that he'd just changed bodies, he was gone. The dark-haired man was back. "You just changed bodies," she whispered in disbelief, knowing how hypocritical she sounded. Currently, she didn't look like her . . . a different person all together.

The tenseness of his shoulders gave away his agitation. "Yes, I did. Now, please, come with me. I need to get you out of here."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, shaking a leaf off her foot. Before this her life had quickly become a mess, all because of Mikael. Now someone had thrown her another curve ball, and she didn't know how she'd roll with it.

There was one thing she knew however — she didn't have time to debate the issue.

"What?" she snapped, voice borderline sarcastic. "You can change bodies. Congratulations. That proved nothing."

He sighed. "You were never this stubborn."

Rebecca laughed, thought it was bitter. "Yeah, you're right. But that was before I got taken into a faery realm, only to find out I'd been betrayed and they were all out to kill me. So, you'll have to forgive me, if I'm not so trusting."

His eyes met hers, determined and brutally honest. "I'd never hurt you. I swear it on my life," he rumbled, voice solemn.

"Prove it to me. Tell me something to make me believe you." She couldn't believe she was saying this. He seemed so honest though, and she wanted to believe him. "Then I'll go with you."

He nodded grimly. Then he whispered, "Give me your hand." Rebecca did so, though she had no idea why. "What you're about to see is your mother, just before she passed."

Confusion swirled around Rebecca like a wave. But, before she even realised what she was doing, her hand was clasped in his. She waited for the violent attack but it never came.

Instead, her vision started to blur, and she swayed on her feet. She reached out blindly and caught the arms in front of her, gripping them like a lifeline.

A split second later, vertigo returned. Rebecca opened her eyes reluctantly, not willing to let go of her lifeline. In front of her was a hospital bed, lavish and expensive, like none other Rebecca had been in. On the bed, a figure was lying, breathing shallowly.

Rebecca turned to her left, catching sight of Jack. Noticing the painful grip she had on his arms, she hurriedly let go. "Why am I here? To see someone die?"

He pointed to the bed, expression sombre. "Not just anyone. On that bed is your mother. She's terminally ill, close to what you'd call cancer. I'm about to walk in. You can let of me."

She hadn't even realised she'd still been gripping his hand. Quickly, she withdrew her grip, flushing. As the awkwardness settled in, Rebecca decided to humour him. "Did my parents know about all this? Were they lying too?"

"No, they had no idea." He walked forward and she had no choice but to follow. They walked along the tiled floor, until they were standing right by the bed. "She can't see you, since this is a memory, but she'll know."

Hands shaking, Rebecca gripped the side rail of the bed, peering down. Her breathe was robbed from her. The woman looked the same as the woman she'd seen in her dream. Same fair hair. Same delicate features.

It was impossible to deny — it was her mother. No tears gathered in her eyes, Rebecca noted, feeling as though she was doing something wrong. She should've been crying, tearful at the least. But, this was a woman she didn't know. It didn't matter that they were related.

The woman looked different now. She was pale and gaunt, a multitude of IV drips in her arms. She was sitting up slightly, mouth moving. Rebecca glanced in that direction and saw the man Jack had turned into standing there, eyes wet.

She frowned. "So who're you impersonating? Him or the body you're in now?"

His hand stroked over the woman's hair. "The body I'm in now, isn't me. He—" He jerked his thumb at the man her mother was talking to, "—is me."

"You were telling the truth?" she whispered in disbelief.

He nodded. "Yes, it's Ferro DeSantos. Jackson Nicholson was a disguise the whole time. Any chance they were onto me, and you'd be put at risk."

Rebecca laughed, reaching out to run her hands over the woman's hand. "This is all so nuts. Someone should really write a book about my life. I'd read it." She shook her head. "I dreamed of her. I was with Mikael, wearing a fancy dress. She was in a glass coffin. I felt a connection with her, but I didn't know . . ."

He smiled sadly. "You saw her. All our royals are buried in that manner. I don't know how you did, but it happened."

How . . . morbid. "That's odd. Uh, can you change into . . . I don't know . . . you?"

He shook his head. "No. I can't run the risk. Not until your safe."

The woman below the moved the bed up, starting to tear up.

Rebecca wished she could find some emotion, but it was impossible. The woman felt like a stranger. "You were her guard right? That's what you said."

"Yes. For forty years, I protected her. I got fired just after the king's death. I was her closest ally, and she trusted me. To others, there was going to be speculation. So I went behind the scenes, guarding her that way. And, now she's gone . . ."

It all clicked into place. "You guard me, because I'm her daughter," Rebecca muttered, more to herself than him.

He nodded. "Yes. And I need to get you out of here — safe."

Wordlessly, Rebecca stared at the woman. Then she made up her mind. "Okay. Get me out of here." She was gullible, she knew it, but every instinct was screaming at her to trust him. So she did.

The blurriness came back. Rebecca braced for it this time, knowing what to expect. When they were back in the forest, Rebecca stared down at Mikael's feet.

"Does it ever feel normal?" she asked. "Switching bodies. I feel like me, but I don't look like me. Or sound like me. It's freaking me out."

He didn't answer, only staring to walk in the opposite direction. Rebecca went with him, following behind. She just hoped he wasn't lying.

R