I match his glower with one of my own. I’m not afraid of you.
But my heart hammering in my chest says otherwise, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure he can hear it because a menacing grin carves his sharp jaw.
The cruel lilt of his lips chills my blood.
Cronus is looking from my potential Fae masters to me, his ears flickering back and forth. His expression a mixture of confusion and shock that undoubtedly matches my own.
Cronus waits until all three of the Fae are standing in front of me before he says, “We’ve never had three claimants before. I need to check with the sprites on what the academy guidelines state.”
As Cronus confers with a swarm of sprites who yell over each other, I wait for my future to be decided.
Rhaegar cuts his eyes at my tormentor. “I thought the Winter Prince didn’t lower himself to have mortal shadows.”
My tormentor shrugs without tearing his gaze from my face. “The Winter Prince thinks having a mortal shadow might be fun.”
Fun? I grind my jaw to keep from saying something stupid. I’ve already pissed off enough Fae today. Last thing I need is to publicly antagonize the emissary to the Winter Prince, or whatever title my tormentor carries.
“More like he wants to present his mate with a human plaything,” the Lunar Court girl points out, glancing back at Inara, who looks ready to traipse up here and murder me with her bare hands.
Mate? For some reason this shocks me. I’ve never met this Winter Prince, but I already know he’s just as cruel and hateful as Inara. Who else would have rules demanding death for stealing a single apple?
It’s hard to imagine either of them finding someone to love. But I guess dark attracts dark.
“So why do you want her, Eclipsa?” Rhaegar asks. “I thought you said owning shadows was stupid?”
I study the Lunar Girl. She’s one of the Elite Six, but she doesn’t have the same cruel look as the rest.
Lunar Girl doesn’t even acknowledge me as she says, “I like her spirit.”
I hate the way they’re talking around me as if I’m not here, but I’m playing nice so I ignore the urge to wave my hand and remind them.
Finally, Cronus shoos the sprites away and announces my fate. “I believe the rules state in this case, the human chooses who they want to shadow.”
Thank. God.
My shoulders sag as relief pours through me. Well that makes this easy. I step forward, ready to shout Rhaegar’s name, when my tormentor interrupts.
“That may be the rules of the Selection,” he says, his unsettling silver-blue eyes never leaving mine. “But Evermore law dictates, technically, everything in the academy belongs to the prince from the ruling court.”
Mother cracker.
I glare at him. Unlike last night, he wears all the finery of what I imagine an elite Fae wears, right down to the silver ceremonial armor that fits his lithe form and the sleek leather gloves covering his long fingers. And holy hell it’s hot.
But the most luxurious clothes in the world couldn’t hide the horrible soul beneath.
Then he turns to me and winks. The bastard winks. His blue-black eyelashes brushing his sharp cheekbones. And any bit of willpower I had left to play nice disappears.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being ordered around?” I blurt. “Do this. Do that. Ruin this innocent human’s life. You’re . . . you’re basically the Winter Prince’s bitch.”
I swear to God, the entire assembly goes dead quiet. The Lunar Court girl starts to grin, but then thinks better of it and slaps a hand over her mouth. Rhaegar’s green eyes are twice their normal size, his pretty mouth gaping open.
My tormentor’s nostrils flare, a muscle twitching beneath his clenched jaw.
Take that truth bomb and shove it where the sun don’t shine.
With one last icy glance my direction, he turns to Rhaegar. “She’s mine, and that’s final.”
Mine? Rhaegar turns to face the Winter Evermore, his jaw set. “I invoke the right of Nocturus.”
A collective gasp from the crowd stirs the air.
“What’s Nocturus?” I whisper to Cronus, who’s too busy conferring with the sprites to hear me.
A moment later, he turns to the three Fae vying for me. “Nocturus has been invoked. Because Rhaegar was the first to claim this mortal, he keeps her as his shadow until Samhain, when the battle will be held under the full moon.” Keep me? Battle? He turns to the Lunar Court Fae. “Eclipsa Skywell, do you claim Nocturus as well?”
My heartbeat jackhammers against my skull. What’s happening? What’s Nocturus? It sounds horrible, if I’m being honest with myself.
Eclipsa shakes her head, a sly look on her face. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of them if they had to fight me.”
Despite my panic, her bravado makes me smile.
A sudden blizzard begins to rage, giant snowflakes dumping from the sky and pummeling the bubble of warmth that’s been basically keeping me alive. I watch in horror as one snowflake pierces the shell, then another, until a bitter cold forces itself into my wet clothes and penetrates my bones.
Rhaegar rushes me off stage and hands me off to Mack, with a quick warning to go straight to our dorms.
“I’d go to hell right now if it was warm,” I mutter, conjuring a tight smile from Rhaegar. Rhaegar does another warmth spell on me, but the weather is so bad that it has little effect this time.
“What’s Nocturus?” I ask Mack, desperate for someone to tell me what the heck is happening.
Apparently still in shock, Mack takes a few seconds to compose herself enough to answer. “It’s a magical battle held during Samhain.”
By brain is reeling. Do I dare ask what Samhain is?
She must read my confusion because she says, “The holiday celebrating the start of winter? No? Not ringing a bell?”
I shrug hopelessly, and then a thought occurs to me. “How do they decide a winner?”
“No, they . . .” She brushes a hot pink strand of hair behind her ear. “They fight until one of the combatants yields . . . or dies.”
“Do the Fae ever choose the death option?” I ask, glancing over at Rhaegar.
“They do if they want to keep their honor.”
My heart sinks. The last thing I want, the last thing I need, is some Evermore dying for me in a stupid magical battle.
This is decidedly not a good start to my first day.
“What about the other girl?” I ask. “From the Lunar Court?”
A wry smile tugs on Mack’s lips. “You mean the renowned Lunar Court assassin, Eclipsa Skywell?”
I swallow. “Assassin?”
“Yep. I heard every half-moon jewel on her body stands for a kill. You should probably be glad she’s no longer in the running to be your keeper.”
I groan. Today is quickly becoming the worst day ever. And I say that as someone who’s been kidnapped, caged, and nearly sold.
With my sprite guide in tow, shrieking every Fae curse word in the book, we follow the rest of the group around the academy and to our dorms.
When we’re far enough away from the Fae students that their supernatural hearing won’t pick up our conversation, I say, “Guess the Winter Prince, wherever he’s hiding, is having a bad day. Can someone please go cheer him up so we can have some sun?”