The closer Valerian and I grow, the further the bargain with Hellebore gets pushed back in my mind. Sometimes I can feel his stare across campus, or during the classes we share after lunch. But he never engages, and true to his word, the pranks have stopped.

A part of me knows his inattention is meant to lull me into a false sense of security. That the minute I truly think I’m safe, Hellebore will strike. But that part of me grows quieter as the days pass in a blur of classes, training, and tests.

Next weekend is Samhain. This year, they’re making all the shadows stay in the main hall instead of the gym, with cots set up in the lecture halls and guards posted outside.

We’re all camped out on the roof, watching the huge projector screen as an Adam Sandler movie plays. Even with the movie speakers turned all the way up, the wild, animalistic snarls from the campus below pierce the night. A bonfire rages in the distance, the smoke tinging the air and stinging the back of my throat.

I’ve been restless all day, as if I can feel the Evermore changing. Or maybe my inner Fae is reacting somehow.

I check my phone, scrolling down to my last message with Valerian. I sent him a picture of me holding up a falafel plate that I had Ruby fly over. I’ve been ordering new foods for him to try, and, so far, he hasn’t loved a single one.

His reply: Delicious. I can’t wait to devour it.

Me: Really? So I’ve finally won?

Him: Oh, did you think I was talking about the food?

Me: You’re the worst.

Ruby took him the food hours ago, and I haven’t heard anything since. Not that I’m surprised. Samhain is the one night a year the Evermore’s primal instincts turn them half-wild, unable to control their animalistic impulses.

And Ruby probably ate most of it before she arrived anyway.

Mack elbows me, nearly waking the sprite, who’s nestled in the front pouch of the onesie Mack insisted I wear. I’m pretending there aren’t cats riding burritos on the front. “Stop checking your phone every five minutes.”

I tuck my phone into my pocket. “Says the girl who just sent lizard breath ten dragon gifs in a row.”

“That was funny,” she insists. “And there are so many dragon gifs to choose from.”

I glance over at my bestie. She’s taken this whole slumber party thing just a bit too far. Her pink-streaked chocolate hair is pulled into pigtails, and she wears a unicorn onesie with a horned hood.

“I’m sorry, what?” I tease. “I can’t hear you over the unicorns farting rainbows on your outfit.”

“Hey, can I sit with you guys?”

We both look up to see Kyler standing by our row of chairs. She wears a fuzzy green robe over a nightgown, and she’s clutching a bag of burnt popcorn.

Mack goes full-fledged protective mode before I can say a word. “Um, do you plan on planting orc bait on us?”

Kyler flinches, her eyes staring down at her cow slippers. “I didn’t have a choice. My Keeper said if I didn’t—”

“Shh,” Reina hisses from two rows ahead. “Shut up or I’ll make you, first year.”

Immediate, blinding rage pours through me, and I shoot Reina a murderous look until she reluctantly turns around.

I was hurt when I figured out it was Kyler who planted the orc bait on me, but after a few days I had calmed down enough to realize she didn’t have a choice. That day, Rhaegar had somehow forced her Keeper to trade her to him, no doubt for that very reason.

Kyler is an easy target. Soft spoken, way out of her depth here, and kind. No way can she stand up to cunning Evermore like Rhaegar and Hellebore.

But Mack hasn’t forgiven her, and she tells Kyler exactly where to stick it.

My heart clenches as I watch Kyler try to find a place to sit on the crowded rooftop before slinking back down the stairs.

Mack takes a look at my crestfallen expression and shakes her head. “No. You will not feel sorry for her. I don’t care what Rhaegar threatened her with, she still had a choice.”

I nod, trying to focus on the movie, but all I can see is her crestfallen expression. The desperation in her face.

Without friends, no one survives this academy. And I won’t be responsible for hurting someone, even if they hurt me first.

“I know that look, Summer,” Mack groans. “Kyler isn’t a wounded puppy, she’s a grown-ass adult who chose to almost get you killed.”

“I know,” I whisper as two Fall Court shadows shush us. “I’ll be back. Hold our seats?”

Pouting, Mack pulls her unicorn hood down low over her narrowed eyes and slumps into the metal chair. “Fine. But I’m not sharing my Sour Patch Kids with her.”

As I wave goodbye, I smartly decide that now isn’t the time to inform Mack that Ruby already demolished her candy.

Once I’m down the stairs and inside the academy, I realize I have no idea where Kyler would have gone. Back to her assigned cot, maybe? Most first years are located in the basement, near the anatomy labs.

My sneakers are quiet as I slip down the steps, suddenly all too aware of the silence. The academy is almost always full of students and staff, even during the evening. It’s weird not hearing anything.

I can’t access the basement from this stairwell, so I duck into the halls, searching for the doorway that leads down.

I make it maybe five feet when a flash of motion catches my eye near a glass door that leads outside. Kyler stands in the small courtyard, surrounded by—

Frick.

Three half-shifted lycans. Where are the Guardians protecting the door?

I burst outside without even thinking, prepared to drag her to safety. Kyler whips around to face me, eyes huge and swollen from crying. “Summer? Tell them. Tell them they’re not allowed to touch us.”

One look at the three hulking lycan males and I know that plea is off the table. Black snouts protrude from their faces, their eyes an eerie gold.

The alpha stands in front of the others. He’s grinning.

But not the nice kind of grin.

My flesh prickles with fear. “Kyler, get behind me.” As soon as she does, I whisper, “Now open the door slowly and back inside.”

The alpha shakes his head. “Why would we let you two go when we’re ready to party?”

The other two begin to circle us.

I hold up my brand. “Know what this is, dickwad?”

His lupine eyes flick to Valerian’s brand, and a hint of fear ripples over his countenance. But, surprisingly, he doesn’t back down. “The Winter Prince doesn’t run this place anymore.”

“No?” I hiss. “Touch either of us and I assure you, you’ll be dead by morning.”

Kyler tugs on my hood. “What is that?”

“What?” I follow her finger to shadowy shapes near picnic tables.

Something about the inhumanly fast way the shapes move sends alarm jolting down my spine. The alpha freezes, sniffs the air, and then growls.

On some silent signal, they all bolt.

But they’re not fast enough. I watch in horror as the dark shapes converge on the lycans. They snarl as they try to fight back, but they’re quickly overwhelmed by the surge of shadows swarming the courtyard, and their snarls soon become whimpers of pain.

“Darklings,” I whisper as I drag Kyler back inside. My sweaty, shaking fingers fumble with the lock. A moment later, I stumble backward, trying to collect myself. I need to alert someone.

What’s the fastest way? I think there’s a darkling switch by the doors . . .

I run to the red button on the far wall, encased in plexiglass, lift the case, and hit it.

Blue flashes of light pulse from the ceiling as a siren wails to life, its loud scream echoing through the school.

“We’re safe,” she whispers as we retreat away from the window. “They’re too stupid to open doors. We’re safe,” she repeats.

The door handle jiggles. She yelps, scrambling farther into the hallway.

Glass shatters as a hand snakes through the window next to the door and—

“They’re unlocking it,” I blurt. I might be able to believe a darkling learned how to open a door, but to have the mental acuity to break a window to unlock that door?

The lock twists to the left with a click, and then the door swings open.

I know even before recognition hits who’s on the other side. As I take in the deformed creature, I almost think Evelyn is somehow human again. Unlike the darklings waiting behind her, she stands on two legs. Her bones aren’t gnarled and twisted. Her hair hasn’t fallen out. And her clothes aren’t tattered, which means she found new ones at some point.

But her horrific mouthful of sharp teeth are absolutely darkling, and when her all-black eyes find mine, I know she’s still one of them.

A monster—only somehow still in control of her mind.

“Summer.” Her raspy, low voice comes out like a faint breeze.

“Oh my God,” Kyler whimpers. “She’s . . . she’s talking.”

Grabbing Kyler by the arm, I drag her down the hall.

Don’t look back. Just run.

But I do, flinging a desperate gaze over my shoulder just in time to see hundreds of twisted darklings surging inside the academy.

28

Once I gather my bearings, my only thought is saving my friends. They’re on the roof, but if the darklings make it to them, they’ll be trapped. Surely the sirens have alerted them something’s wrong?

I head for the same stairwell I took down here, Kyler in tow. Halfway up, the stairwell explodes with the crashing boom of countless feet coming toward us. It takes all my strength not to get trampled in the chaos. Someone slams into my shoulder, whipping me around. My head cracks against the wall. I stumble and nearly drop to my knees, fighting against the bodies, but there’s nothing I can do as the crowd pushes me in the other direction.

Toward danger.

“The darklings are downstairs!” I warn, but my voice is lost in the mob.

“Summer!”

I whip around at Mack’s voice, desperate to locate her. Relief slams through me as I spot the unicorn horn sticking up a few feet away. She’s with Richard and Jace, all three of them locked arm-in-arm.