After deliberating on giving it to the school, I take the crate back to my room. I’ll take it home and find a way to mail it to them.

By the time Mack returns, my rolling suitcase and Puma gym back sit by the door, packed and ready. My hair is nearly dried, pulled back into a clip. I want to crumple into a ball and sleep away the last twelve hours, but this is the last time I’ll see Mack for months, so I hop up to make us one final cup of coffee instead.

Behind me, Mack is unusually silent, but I chalk it up to her hangover. “Rough night?” I tease as I turn, coffee mugs in hand.

When I see the tears in her eyes, I freeze mid-step, steamy coffee spilling onto my fingers and dripping onto the faded green rug. “Mack?” I rush to set down the cups on the coffee table and settle beside her on the loveseat. “What happened? Who do I need to murder?”

Her eyes are rimmed red, like she’s been crying for a while. “I got my final grade back.” She drags the back of her hand over her nose. “I failed.”

“What?” I blurt, positive I’ve misheard her. “How is that possible?”

“Remember the first Potions and Poisons test? When you were afflicted by the tormentor spell and got to redo the exam?”

I nod, a ball of dread forming in my belly.

“I was so worried about you that I left midway through the test. After that grade, I was struggling to catch up, and then everything kept happening to you and I couldn’t concentrate. I was trying to prove I deserved to be here, so I refused the tutors my parents offered. I thought the final would make up for everything, but—” Tears pour freely down her swollen cheeks. “ My dads are going to kill me.”

I grab her hands. “Isn’t there something we can do? Appeal? Extra credit.”

She tugs her hands away, her eyes puffy as they meet mine. “The only way to pass now is to win the final gauntlet.”

My eyebrows jerk up in surprise. “No. You can’t, Mack.”

“I already entered. That’s where I was just now.”

There’s a cold finality in her words. Crap. I replay my bargain with Hellebore in my mind. “Mack, please. I’m begging you to rescind your name. We’ll find a way. I’ll talk to the Winter Prince. Maybe he can do something.”

“I know you guys broke up, Summer. The whole school does.” Swiping at her eyes, she stands. “It doesn’t matter. If you can’t be happy that I have one final chance to stay at the academy—”

“You know it’s not that. You’re my best friend. If anything happens to you, I would die.”

“I supported you when you decided to hook up with the Winter Prince, even though I knew he would break your heart. I supported you when you entered the gauntlet on some crazy mission that’s probably going to get you killed. Now, all I’m asking is that you do the same for me.” She shakes her head. “Never mind. I have to go. My dads are waiting for me, and I haven’t told them yet, so . . .”

As soon as the door shuts behind her, my face crumples, tears streaming freely.

How did everything spiral so out of control so fast? In less than a day, I’ve lost nearly everyone I ever cared about.

Only Ruby is left, and even she should despise me for offering her up to a sociopath—even if she would have thoroughly enjoyed it, the sicko.

The ache in my chest grows as I open my nightstand drawer. She’s made a nest of stolen underwear and socks inside. I kiss my fingertip and press it to her sleeping form. Her little shimmery wings stir, but she doesn’t awaken.

“Stay out of trouble, sprite.”

But I’m starting to think with me gone, Ruby will be the safest she’s been since school started.

I ruined Valerian’s standing in court. Endangered Eclipsa just by association. Nearly let Jane be sold into a lifetime of slavery. And now Mack is flunking school, her childhood dream of graduating as a Shadow Guardian shredded, because of me.

Maybe love’s not the poison—maybe I am.

41

I stare at the crack in my ceiling above my bed. I haven’t left my room in days other than to use the restroom. The tantalizing smell of banana bread fills the air, a pang of hunger twinging my middle, reminding me I should eat. Should keep my strength up for the final gauntlet in two days.

I leave tomorrow to journey to the Spring Court, where I’ll stay overnight with all the other finalists.

I should definitely eat. But my appetite is gone, and I just don’t have the energy to force down food at the moment.

Through the thin walls, I hear the oven ding. A moment later, Zinnia’s voice rings through the house. “Summer! I made your favorite!”

Ever since I returned home last Sunday, Zinnia’s baked enough to feed half the town. Vi’s drank enough to petrify her liver. And Jane’s found every excuse there is to disappear into the woods.

As for me, I’ve held a five day long pity party for one.

God, I miss my friends. I worry about Mack and how she’s holding up. I miss having to hide all my food from Ruby. I miss Eclipsa ordering me around during training.

And Valerian . . .

Ugh. Don’t think about him.

Flipping onto my stomach, I reach onto my nightstand and grab my phone. Eclipsa’s string of text messages show up first. I flip through them, eyebrows knitted together.

I’m sorry.

I was an asshole.

I shouldn’t have said that.

I’m the worst.

Worse than an orc boil. A troll’s fart.

Hellebore got to me . . . that’s not an excuse but, please just text me back.

I’m worried about you.

And the Winter Prince.

If you don’t message me back, I will come to your house and kick your ass.

I blow out a breath, sending my greasy hair flying away from my face, and check my last text message from Valerian. It’s from the night at Yule.

I can’t wait to see you in that dress.

My throat tightens, and I scroll to my texts with Mack. Her last message was from the night of the party.

Where are you? Jace is hooking up with a satyr and Richard is drunk-crying over Evelyn. Need reinforcements STAT.

Now, I send off a quick, Hope you’re doing okay, and wait.

Nothing.

I sit up in bed as Zinnia’s footsteps echo down the hall. A moment later, my door creaks open.

“I come bearing gifts,” Zinnia calls, waltzing inside with a tray of goodies. I stare at the sliced and buttered banana bread. The sweaty glass of sweet iced tea.

And burst into tears.

“Oh, darling. Don’t cry.” She deposits the tray on my desk and rushes over.

I’ve been trying to keep it together. Trying to focus on the gauntlet and be strong. But the second she wraps her plump arms around me, I can’t stem the tide of tears.

I bury my head in her chest and let everything out.

She caresses my hair, the smell of her cheap vanilla perfume from the Dollar General comforting. “Remember when I used to do this?”

I shake my head.

“You were nine going on sixteen, so angry and sad and confused. I used to just hold you and let you cry. Afterward, I’d offer you a plate of cornbread or a slice of homemade apple pie with some sweet tea and you’d be all better.”

I lift my head, smiling through my tears. “And here we are again.”

“Yes, but I suspect this time, you need more than some bread and tea to fix you up.” Her gaze flicks to my facedown phone, back to me. “Friend trouble or boy trouble?”

“Both.” I wipe my sleeve over my cheek, collecting the tears.

A knowing look dawns on her face. “Nick said Mack’s been struggling this year. He thinks it’s his fault, that they’ve pushed her for so long that she doesn’t know what she actually wants.”

“He said that?” I forget that Zinnia and Nick have each other on speed dial and gossip about us constantly.

“Yes, he’s been worried sick about her. It must be hard for the sweet girl, especially when you know exactly what you want to do after you graduate, while she’s . . . confused. I told Nick he should step back and let her make her own choices.”

“I always thought she wanted to work at her dads’ firms.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I think back on all the times we discussed our majors. While I blabbered on and on about finding a job to help protect mortals from the Fae and make our lives better, she was always strangely quiet.

She’s never once said she wants to be a lawyer, and when we discussed Guardian jobs after school, she always changed the subject.

Zinnia reaches over and hands me my glass of iced tea. “Now tell me about this boy. Is he cute? Does he have nice parents?”

Cute? Nice parents? Titania save me, how do I explain Valerian Sylverfrost? I take a long sip of my drink, the tea so sweet my teeth ache, and say, “What if it wasn’t a . . . boy?”

Surprise flickers in her eyes. I wait for the condemnation I know I would feel in her position, but there’s only worry. “He’s a Faerie?” I don’t even have time to answer before she says, “Are you being safe?”

I nod. “We haven’t—didn’t get that far, but I was prepared.” Eclipsa found me the herbs mortal women need to keep from getting pregnant from a Fae.

“Did he hurt you?” she asks, her voice harder, making it clear she wouldn’t hesitate to rain hell on him if he did.

“Does my heart count?”

“Ah, I see. The heart’s trickier than flesh.” She takes a slice of banana bread, munching it as she thinks. “So you’re in love with this Faerie?”

How does she do that? I nod again, wishing I could deny it. The Fae killed her family. Loving one feels like a betrayal.

“But he doesn’t love you back?”

“No.” My chest aches, and I settle back on the bed. “He wanted to take things to the next level physically, he even pissed off his dad and possibly endangered his life for me, but . . .” I clear emotion from my voice. “But he couldn’t love me. Not the way I wanted.”