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She’s a daughter of two worlds.

And those worlds are ready to collide. 

Carys Morgan is a mythology professor who walked through a fae portal and into a shadow world where myths and magic are reality. She has danced with dragons, bargained with fae, and fallen for a Scottish blacksmith with the heart of a knight.

But now both the Shadowlands and the Brightlands are in danger because Carys unleashed an ancient power, and the old gods are looking to Carys for a solution.

A goddess of war is loose in the modern world, and the fate of both realms depends on Carys correcting her mistake. To return the Morrígan to the Shadowlands and stop the worlds from colliding, she’ll need the help of old gods, new gods, and every ally—living or dead—she’s made along the way.

Fall into the pages of this modern fairytale brought to life! BROKEN VEIL is the third installment in the SHADOWLANDS series by USA Today Bestselling Author Elizabeth Hunter. With vivid worldbuilding, relatable characters, and abundant mysteries to uncover, this is a world you’ll yearn to get lost in long after the last page is turned. 

Duncan parked the old Land Rover in the driveway of a garage across the street from the Chelsea Bridge. 

“Any other time of day, this would be asking for a tow,” he grumbled.

“Which is why I would only ask you to do this in the middle of the night,” Godrik muttered.

The wolf shifter and the Scotsman were equally grumbly about being woken in the middle of the night, but when Carys and Cadell explained that they were speaking to each other’s minds, they both understood the urgency.

Laura had stayed back at the house with Naida, leaving Carys to jog to catch up with the three large men who strode across Grosvenor Road toward the walkway along Chelsea Bridge. There weren’t many people on the streets that night, but everyone Carys saw seemed to be walking the same direction.

In the distance, she saw Cadell leaning on the railing, his long arms braced and his shoulders tense as his eagle-sharp gaze locked onto the dark water of the Thames.

Duncan halted at the sidewalk and held his hand out, waiting for Carys to catch up. “Did Godrik tell you why he wanted to come here?”

Carys shook her head. “No, I don’t know what Cadell told him.”

She only knew that moments after she’d realized that she and Cadell were communicating mentally in the Brightlands, the wolf and the dragon were knocking on her door, waking Duncan up and asking for him to drive them to the river as quickly as possible.

The night air had woken Carys up, but she was still groggy and unfocused. She could feel the bright line of energy between her and Cadell—usually muted in the Brightlands—flare to life as she approached the water.

By the time Duncan and Carys reached the bridge, Godrik was standing next to Cadell, staring down river with a grim look on his face.

“What?” Carys asked. “What is it?”

“There is an ancient fae gate in this area,” Godrik said.

“Look.” Cadell pointed toward the riverbank on the near side of the river.

Carys rubbed her eyes and blinked, but all she saw was a dense stand of trees that rode along the top of the moss-covered walls of the embankment. Just beyond Chelsea Bridge was the low, arched silhouette of Grosvenor Bridge, and the lights of the city were dancing on the dark, flowing water of the Thames.

“What the hell is that?” Duncan was staring at the embankment.

“That’s the gate,” Godrik said. “But I’ve never seen it like this. Not on this side of the gates.”

Carys frowned. “I don’t get it.” 

There was nothing in the trees, save for a few dancing fireflies.

“Carys, what do you think those are?” Duncan pointed at the dark silhouette of the trees along the river.

“Fireflies?” She shrugged.

“No,” Cadell said. “We do not have fireflies here.”

Carys blinked and looked closer. “You mean—”

“The gate is beneath those trees,” Godrik said. “I don’t think it’s been used for centuries, not since the humans here built this embankment.” He pointed to the Grosvenor Bridge. “There’s one a bit further up under the bridge that better traveled, but those aren’t fireflies, Lady Carys. Those are wisps.”

Wisps.

Carys’s breath caught.

Will-o-the-wisps, the dancing souls of shadowkin never allowed to be born.

Every time a child was born in the Brightlands, their shadow self was born on the other side of the fae gates. Created by old magic, not every child’s soul was given a body. Many were born only to live in an endless limbo, food for the dark fae creatures who controlled the portals between the two worlds, destined to whisper in the night until their lights flickered out.

“Wisps show up in Scotland sometimes,” Duncan said. “We see them in the forests there. There have always been a few.”

“In California too,” Carys added. “We see them in the forests around the gates.”

Cadell turned to look at Duncan. “But in all your years living in London, have you ever seen wisps here?”

“No,” Duncan said. “Not out in the open like this.”

Carys watched the embankment as the few humans on the bridge walked over, stopped, stared, and pointed at the lights.

A bright wisp darted out from the trees and danced across the river, disappearing under the bridge where a quiet splashing sound echoed across the water. A second later, the wisp disappeared from sight.

“What was that?” Carys whispered.

“What lives under bridges?” Duncan murmured.

“Trolls,” Cadell said.

“In Brightlands London?” Carys’s heart raced. “This is bad. This is so bad.”

Cadell walked over, keeping his voice low. “Since the time that magic left this world and retreated to the Shadowlands, the gates have been guarded by the fae. The portals between the two worlds have thinned at times, but they have always held.”

Godrik moved closer. “But now there is an ancient god in the Brightlands who has not be worshiped actively for centuries. This world is new to her, and she’s been given a massive jolt of violent energy from the battle in the Shadowlands.”

“She’s stretching the limits of her power,” Carys said. “Testing things out.”

Duncan added. “And from her publicity stunt in Salisbury, it looks like she wants to make a statement.”

“We can hear each other in our minds.” Cadell said. “If I’m being honest, I feel like I might be able to shift if I tried.”

“Please don’t,” Carys whispered. “I do not want to try to explain a dragon flying off the Chelsea Bridge.”

Godrik shoved his hands in his pockets and shook the silver and black hair that fell into his grey eyes. “You let her cross the gate, Lady Carys. Whether you realized it or not, that was a mistake. Now one of the most powerful gods in the Shadowlands is rising in England. I may know how to fight the fae in Anglia, but this isn’t my world.” 

Duncan looked at the crowds gathering on the bridge, the humans pointing at the flying wisps as more and more of them appeared in the trees. “From the look of the people on this bridge, the fae gates of London aren’t going to remain hidden for long.”

Carys heard another splash in the water. She walked to the edge and looked down. There was the distinct movement of a serpentine wave spreading as something moved under the dark surface of the Thames. Then a large ridged back became visible for a second before it slipped beneath the water and disappeared from view.