Her new name sank past her tangle of wild red curls and into her skin.
It seeped into her bones. Her magic. Her reality.
When Robin had told her about names, his voice had had a reverent quality she hadn’t understood until now.
Names were power.
Power to choose. Power to change. Power to become.
And power to be free.
Her fingers curled around a small stone embedded in the key she’d created in the garden no one was supposed to know existed. It fit in her palm like a second name, and in a way, it was.
Now all she had to do was find this Faerie Thief and bring him or her back to the White Queen for justice.
And then . . . Her heart beat a little faster, and for a moment her lungs forgot how to breathe.
And then there was a whole world out there just waiting for her to explore her newfound freedom.
Join me next Tuesday for one of the true beginnings of this story. 😉