"Do you want to see it?" Penelope asked, once the warmth of the contract had settled fully into place. "The space. Now that you're bound to it properly."
Killian's mouth curved. "I thought you'd never ask."
She reached for his hand, and the familiar pull took hold almost instantly — the apartment dissolving around them, replaced by the golden light and open air of her space, the crystal spring winding its familiar path toward the distant mountains.
Except the mountains weren't where they should have been.
Penelope stumbled a step, disoriented, the geography beneath her feet subtly, unmistakably wrong — the fields stretched further than she remembered, the spring cut a different path, and somewhere in the distance, a second mountain range had risen where none had existed a moment ago, jagged and unfamiliar against a sky that seemed, impossibly, larger than it had been seconds earlier.
"That's not right," she said, turning in a slow circle. "None of this is right."
