If I slept that night, I couldn"t tell. Did my nightmare visions of Reine as the Dark Queen of All Fae, wielding her impressive power to destroy all she holds dear, count as dreams? Or had my brain tortured me with images of my deepest fears for what would happen to her if we couldn"t get her out of the asylum?
Finally, when dawn broke over The Aerie, I greeted it with an early morning flight. The urge to change, to take on my monstrous gargoyle form, had gotten stronger. Had Uncle Augie felt that, too? Was that why he"d given into the temptation to turn to stone?
A question popped into my brain—had Uncle Augie been a Prince Consort? He"d been a legend my mother had told me when I was a lad several hundred years before, which meant he preceded her as well. Did something about mating with
