After a rushed two-hour flight from Denver to Realm Headquarters in northern Idaho, Adare was about to lose his mind. Grace hadn’t awakened. It had been three hours, and she was still out. She looked pale and fragile on the examination table—which was more of a plush bed—in the infirmary of Realm headquarters. He cleared his throat. “Queen Kayrs? Shouldn’t we do something?”

“Emma. For Pete’s sake, call me Emma.” The queen turned from the granite counter and a series of medical records that she’d requested about Grace. “She’s seen quite a few Realm doctors, and the records are fairly complete.”

What? Grace had been seeing multiple doctors and hadn’t said anything? Adare crossed his arms.

The queen nodded, looking very unqueen-like in ripped jeans, ratty tennis shoes, and a T-shirt with Sheldon Cooper on it saying his mother had him tested. Her black hair was smoothed back in a ponytail and her deep blue eyes were serious. An intricate golden cuff encircled her left wrist, and she kept fiddling with the heavy-looking metal. “I’ve taken blood already, and we’ll have those results soon.” She waved her hand toward a bunch of spinning medical instruments on the far wall. “She’s really been out for three hours?”

Faith hovered near the bed, her fingers on Grace’s wrist. “Is this her first episode of hypotension with concomitant bradycardia?”

Adare shook his head. Sometimes he forgot that Grace’s sister was a world-famous neurologist. “What?”

Faith released Grace. She was taller than Grace, and her mahogany hair was straight instead of curly, but they shared similar bone structure. “What has been happening with my sister?”

“I don’t know. I tried to awaken her on the transport here, but she’s out.” As if she were in a coma.

Faith looked at Emma, concern bright in her gaze. “We need an MRI.”

“Let’s bring her out of it first to get some answers.” Emma opened a drawer and pulled out a syringe. “Pure adrenaline—the immortal kind. This should do it.” She turned and plunged the liquid into Grace’s arm.

Grace gasped and sat up, her eyes wide. She slapped a hand against her chest and took several deep breaths, looking around the room and focusing on Adare. “Ah, shit.”

“Nicely put,” the queen said dryly.

Relief flooded Adare so fast he couldn’t speak. So much for having no emotions. Then anger spiraled in faster than a hurricane, and he thought it better not to say anything. Right now.

“So.” Faith pressed both hands on her hips. “You lied.”

Grace blanched. “I didn’t lie so much as decide to tell you in person.”

“Tell her what, Grace?” Adare’s voice was so garbled it surprised even him.