When Kara Magari uncovers a secret door in the middle of the forest, she discovers (and trips through) a portal to a hidden world full of terrifying things: Ourea. She just wants to go home, but the natives have other plans for her. She clashes with immortal shapeshifters, is carried off by a dragon, nearly dies on several occasions, and somehow becomes the master of an ancient book of magic called the Grimoire. Every time she thinks she's safe, her new "friends" show their true colors.

Kara needs an ally, or she might not survive Ourea's monsters. She drops her guard when Braeden, a native soldier with a dark secret, vows to keep her safe. And though she doesn't know it, her growing attraction to him may just be her undoing.

For twelve years, Braeden Drakonin has lived a lie. The Grimoire is his one chance at redemption, and it lands in his lap when Kara Magari comes into his life. Though he begins to care for this stranded girl, there's something he wants more. He wants the Grimoire.

Welcome to Ourea, where only the cunning survive.

Copyrighted Material

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Sarah Montee.

www.smboyce.com

DEDICATION

I wrote this book for you. Stay awesome.

Thank you, also, to my beta readers:

Dad, Syl, Aly, Chaney, Adrienne, Dustin, Mom, and Geoff

Without you, everyone in Ourea would have slightly stranger names and would probably still be twiddling their thumbs, stuck in that typo-riddled dream called “draft one.”

CHAPTER ONE

THE HUMAN

Kara Magari pushed her way down an unkempt trail in the Rocky Mountains, its trees hunching and swaying overhead as she crunched her way along the rotting foliage that served as a carpet. The canopy grew steadily thicker and swallowed the setting sunlight, casting a murky green glow over her pale skin as she hiked. Her hiker’s build made her look a year or two younger than she really was—a curse at twenty—but she knew she would be grateful for it someday.

She ran a hand through her blond hair as she examined the forest. This was a new path, one she found on the way back to her car after an early dinner at the visitor center. She bit her lip and scanned the empty forest. Even though there hadn’t been any empty beer cans or syringes littering the way, solo hiking on an unfamiliar trail was never safe. It would be dark in just a few hours.

She patted the side pocket of her backpack. The edges of her stun gun pushed against the cloth. Kara smirked—she would be fine.

Two minutes later, the footpath ended at a simple gazebo built from unpainted wood. Low-hanging branches hid half of its paneled roof, and a tree trunk on either side blocked the way around. Waist-high wooden railings surrounded most of the structure, but left a break in the fencing just wide enough to walk through. A path stretched from this opening across the gazebo to the other side, where yet another gap in the rails would let her through to the blinding daylight. Benches lined the miniature lane through the shelter.

The landscape on the other side was blurred and bright: a stark contrast to the heavy green glow of the forest, where only freckled rays of sunlight could break through the leaves. She narrowed her eyes as she got closer to the gazebo, but couldn’t distinguish anything through the sun’s sharp glare.

A plank of wood framed with odd carvings had been nailed to the space above the entrance, and she squinted in an effort to read the dull cuts and make out the word:

Lichgate.

She shrugged and stepped up onto the wooden aisle. As soon as she set foot inside, her stomach lurched. Her cheeks flushed, and she covered her mouth to suppress bile.

A blue light flared out of the corner of her eye. It had come from the edge of the lichgate, but as she leaned over to inspect the space by her head, she couldn’t find anything reflective or even blue.

She took a deep breath before tossing her pack on one bench and lounging on the other until her stomach settled. Maybe she should have checked the sell-by date on the chicken salad she’d eaten at the visitor center.

Kara closed her eyes and listened to the wind rustling through the leaves, her body relishing the cool air as it coursed along her neck. She breathed deeply again, and her gut relaxed.

She leaned back against the bench and sighed. Since her dad had first strapped her to his back twenty years ago and trudged down the East Inlet to Adams Falls, she’d spent every summer of her life vacationing in the Rockies. Her family had hiked almost every trail, but this one was not on her worn and ripped map.

Memories of past hiking trips slipped into her mind: her dad laughing as he tripped over a root; Kara discovering an antique diamond earring caught under a rock in a stream; her mom rattling off tips about hiking as she pointed out wildlife.

Kara’s shoulders tensed. Her breath caught. She wasn’t supposed to let herself think about her mom.

Her heart sank as the pain rushed in anyway. Six months. She’d been forced to live without her mom—her best friend—for six whole months.

Hollow echoes of sirens and shrieking tires tugged at her mind, but she pushed them away. Even on a secluded path hidden from the world, she couldn’t give into thoughts like those. She would lose it and start crying. After that, there would be no telling when she would get it together enough to drive back to the rental house.

Her dad couldn’t be doing too great, either. He was probably at the rental, eyes out of focus as he stared at the same page of a crime novel for hours.

Neither of them handled grief well.

Kara promised herself she would hug him when she got back—a good old Magari bear hug. Maybe mimicking one of his painful cuddles would get a little laugh out of him.

Early this morning, Kara had tiptoed by his bedroom before he even woke up. She’d wanted to wait around and check on him before she left, but she’d written him a note instead. She couldn’t stay in the house. The first thought to hit her that morning had been:
Mom died exactly six months ago. You’ll never get her back.

Not a happy wake up call.

Kara cleared her throat and tried to focus on cheerful things. She had to distract herself, or she really would lose what little control she had.

Tony. Last summer, Kara’s stomach tied in knots every time she walked into the trail café because she knew she would see him—the gorgeous cashier with green eyes and dark hair. According to the white plastic square on his shirt, his name was Tony. She and her mom always giggled over how Kara would turn red as a tomato when he made eye contact, and her mom even dared Kara to ask him out, once. He always smiled when they walked in, as if he liked that he could make Kara blush without even speaking, but she could never quite muster the courage to actually follow through on her mother’s dare.

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