“Whatever.” Reina rolls her eyes. “You know, my dad said since you’re adopted, you shouldn’t even be considered a legacy.”
My hands ball into hard fists, and I toss my paper sack full of stuff onto my bed and join Mack. Picking on me is par for the course. But Mack is off-limits.
Reina’s barb hit its mark; a red blush creeps up Mack’s neck.
Then Mack rallies. “What, the one time of year he comes to visit you? My parents might not be my birth parents, but at least they enjoy my company.”
Mack’s words must strike a nerve because it’s Reina’s turn to flush, anger brightening her pale skin. With a dramatic flip of her gorgeous curls, she turns her back on us.
“Bitch,” Mack mutters. “I’ve known her since we were little and she just gets worse with time.”
“I hear her mom became a darkling and they killed her right in front of Reina when she was, like, six or something,” Evelyn whispers cheerily.
I slap a hand over my mouth. I might despise Reina, but no one deserves to see their mother become a monster and then be killed. “I thought . . . people in the Untouched Zones didn’t turn.”
Evelyn lifts her delicate shoulders, causing one red braid to slip over the side. “That was before they completely cut off contact to the Tainted Zone, thank the Shimmer.”
My jaw clenches. Evelyn usually forgets I’m from the Tainted Zone, even though I’ve reminded her countless times.
“I remember,” Mack says as she sits on her cot, a distant look softening her focus. “It was all over the news. Her dad was a prominent politician, so it was a big story.”
After that pearl of happiness, we busy ourselves unpacking our stuff and settling in for the day. I try not to look at Reina where she holds court with her minions. Try not to let the sadness I feel for her seep inside my heart.
But it creeps in, anyway. Damn human emotions.
We spend the rest of the time hanging on Mack’s cot gossiping and ignoring the Unseelie crew. As Mack puts little streaks of violet in my hair with hair chalk and then french-braids it, the nervous knot in my belly begins to soften.
I even find myself laughing along with Mack as Evelyn divulges all the campus secrets. Which shadows are sleeping with whom. The forbidden love triangle going on between a Dawn Court shadow and two Mortal Creatures Court shadows.
Apparently, even fraternizing with other shadows outside our keeper’s Court is frowned upon.
Oh, goodie. Just another reason I can’t become the prince’s shadow.
I perk up even more when I learn the students are allowed to go into the basement where some of the mythological creatures are kept—the ones who can’t stand the bitter cold in the outdoor menagerie.
My favorite beast ends up being the basilisk, a large venomous green snake with horns. His entire cage is coated with magical tint to prevent his gaze from turning anyone he looks at to stone.
Creepy, but rad.
As soon as night falls, a fourth year comes in dragging an old television on a cart and places the TV in the front of the room. The movie has just barely started when another fourth year comes in and says someone wants to talk with me outside.
The fact they can’t come inside means they’re Fae. The way the fourth year looks close to crapping his pants means they’re important. And by his armband, the fourth year is an Unseelie shadow, meaning the Fae is probably Unseelie as well.
The prince. My heart wobbles in my chest.
Everyone’s attention is on me as I stretch out my legs on the bed and shake my head. “Tell him I’m busy.”
The fourth year, a tall boy with thin lips, big ears, and sandy blond hair, tugs at his shirt. “He said you’d say that, and to tell you that you owe him.”
“Well tell him I don’t want to distract him from his battle tonight.”
Beads of sweat trickle down his temples, his eyes tight with fear. I almost feel sorry for the boy, but not enough to give in.
“He said you’d say that too, and to tell you if you want the book, you’ll meet him.”
My breath hitches. The book? As in the book I nearly died for?
Finally convinced, I ignore the stares of literally everyone as I throw my coat over my pajamas. I insist Mack and Ruby go too, and the fourth year nods, looking so relieved that he’d probably agree to anything at this point.
Technically, I don’t need Ruby or Mack to face the prince. But I’ve learned the hard way that Ruby can’t be left alone. I’d likely come back to her having started a brawl with the Unseelie sprites or stolen something.
And Mack . . . Mack is coming because a part of me no longer trusts myself around the prince.
Not when he saved me. Not when the parts of my skin where he touched still tingles. When my cheek still remembers the sensation of his flesh, cold and hard, as I rested my head against his chest.
There was so much pain and relief flooding my body that I hadn’t thought about it then, but ever since, that’s all I can think about.
Him. How I want to hate him—how I should hate him—but I can’t.
Not after last night.
Not after discovering how being in his arms felt like the rightest thing in the world.
Somewhere deep down I know that my hatred is the only wall of defense I have against the magnetic pull he exudes. Once that defense is gone, I’ll be powerless.
And that scares me.
29
Outside, two shadow guardians stand by the heavy metal doors. Weapons drip from their black and red uniforms, the sight reminding me of the dangers outside these doors. At first they try to stop us, but the fourth year whispers into their ears and they let us pass.
The bonfire must be twice the size of last night because it lights up the entire campus, an angry sun surrounded by dark shapes. A primal energy swells the frigid, smoky air, and strange, animalistic noises carry with the wind, sending Ruby diving into the breast pocket of my coat.
Beneath my layers of clothing, the hair on my arms stands erect.
The fourth year shadow leads us across the snow into a side courtyard walled in on three sides by a stone fence. A giant oak tree stands sentinel in the middle, its long, regal branches weighted with snow.
As soon as we step foot in the courtyard, the fourth year retreats.
A sudden howling wind draws my eye to a raging wall of snow. It circles around the courtyard like a bubble, faster and faster and faster until we’re trapped.
“What’s happening?” Mack whispers, resituating her scarlet wool scarf around her neck.
“He wants privacy,” I mutter. “Showoff.”
“Who?” Her crystallized breath plumes across the courtyard.
I’d completely forgotten I haven’t told them who we’re meeting. Before I can answer, the Winter Prince emerges from a doorway on the other side, his owl perched on his shoulder. Asher trails beside him, arms crossed over his massive chest and a miserable look on his face. As a shifter, he might be Unseelie, but I learned in class that dragon shifters are cold-blooded by nature and need warmth.
Basically, the opposite of this place.
The moment Asher locks eyes on Mack, the big guy’s face lights up.
My gaze slides to Mack beside me. A blush stains her tanned cheeks, a timid smile playing across her lips as she returns his stare.