"Where did I put it?" I rummage through the dresser drawers, tossing clothes onto the floor. "I swear I had my phone when we got here." I pause. "Didn''t I?"

The details are a little fuzzy, considering. Between months passing and the insanity of our escape from the Fae Ward...

You''ve never been good at keeping track of your belongings.

"That''s not true." But even as I say it, doubt creeps in. When was the last time I saw my phone? Is it still in the Fae Ward? The idea that someone might have access to my texts leaves me a little sick to my stomach.

Oh? Remember that time you lost your house keys three times in about five minutes?

"That was different. I was distracted."

And your favorite shirt? The blue one?

"It probably got mixed up in the laundry." I move to the nightstand, rifling through the drawer. Nothing but a few hair ties. A luxury item, and I try my best not to lose them.

What about your necklace and ring?

My hand flies to my throat, fingers searching for a weight I already know isn''t there. It''s been months.@@@@

"They must be in my luggage back at Westwood." But even as I say it, uncertainty gnaws at me. Did I put them somewhere else for safety, instead? Well, it doesn''t matter. Either way, they''re in Westwood. Someone''s probably stolen them by now.

Those pieces of jewelry were more than accessories—they were protection, ways to hide what I am. Hopefully they don''t fall into the wrong hands. Not that I''m sure what anyone can do with them.

Shaking those thoughts off, I head back to my dresser. It has to be there, if it''s anywhere at all.

"What are you two discussing?" Grimoire materializes beside me, his child form perched on the dresser. Sometimes he''s nosy.

"Just my old necklace and ring." I push aside a stack of sweaters, but there''s still no phone. "The ones Selene made me wear to suppress my magic."

A strange sensation tickles my mind—like fingers rifling through my memories. The jewelry appears in crystal clarity: the amethyst pendant and its matching ring.

"WHERE ARE THEY?" Grimoire''s voice booms in my head and ears, making me stumble back. His eyes glisten with excitement.

"God, Grim." I rub my temple. "No need to shout. And I thought we talked about these before?"

Well, they didn''t. Selene''s mental voice snaps with irritation. Or if they did, it''s lost with the rest of my memories.

"The rest?" he asks, pouncing on that information. Have they not talked about this before? Sometimes it''s hard to remember that Grimoire hasn''t been with us forever. It feels like forever sometimes.

You know many of my memories have faded. Her tail droops. Perhaps the knowledge of the artifacts came from... before.

"These aren''t just any magical items," Grimoire says. "They''re divine artifacts, created by the Goddess herself. They were lost to time long, long ago."

Then how do you know about them? Selene challenges.

"I''ve lived through such history," he says pompously.

For someone who''s lived so long, you know precious little.

Grimoire deflates a little. "I have witnessed things," he mutters. And he has. He''s been around for so much. But we''ve long ago established that much of Grimoire''s knowledge is theoretical, from what the witches have recorded in his pages.

After all, he doesn''t really exist outside of the book. If he isn''t brought out, he can''t see.

His knowledge is great and vast, but also limited in many frustrating ways.

"Don''t make him feel bad, Selene."

He started it.

Grimoire sounds thoughtful. Perhaps I can delve into your mind, wolf. See why there are so many blocks in your memory. You recall your past life, so there should be no holes in what you remember.

Selene sneezes. It''s a sign of discomfort, not an itchy nose.

Perhaps, she agrees reluctantly, torn between finding out more about her lost memories and having to accept her nemesis rummaging through her mind.

I can feel the struggle in our bond.

"Come on, Selene. Isn''t it worth trying?"

Didn''t you have something important to do?