Both Evermore wear the faint but unmistakable look of unease.

Perhaps it’s the two watermelon-sized groupings of buckshot that pepper the wall just over their heads. Or Vi, who’s watching them from the kitchen, and boy, oh boy is she pissed. Evidenced by her beloved shotgun, Betsy, held low at her waist.

Not happening. This is not happening.

Vi’s furious stare bounces from the Evermore to Zinnia, as if she can’t decide who to blast first. The Fae sitting at her beloved dining table using her precious china and linen placemats reserved for special guests, or the sister who’s cheerfully serving them.

Valerian’s gaze slides to me, locks. His unease softens, giving way to that startling familiarity we share. My stomach muscles clench, and I fight the way my body reacts.

Softening. Warming. Aching to draw nearer to him as if caught in his physical orbit. I’m suddenly all too aware of my pulse, my breathing, my sensitive skin reacting as the light elastic waistband of my sleep shorts rubs against my hips . . .

Whoa. Panic trills through me at the thought of Vi realizing my feelings for an Evermore—especially a royal one.

Setting my jaw, I drag my stare from my mate and park it on my newly reinstated friend. “Why are they here?”

Considering their freakish supernatural hearing, I don’t bother whispering.

“I couldn’t reach you, Summer,” Eclipsa scolds. “Did you really think they would let me come alone?”

“You could have called my home number. The school has it.”

“And you could have answered my one thousand, three hundred and seventy nine texts, but c’est la vie. We’re here, no one’s dead, and it’s the perfect time to discuss details on why you entered the gauntlet in the first place.”

“Right now?” I demand, still ruffled by the shock of seeing Valerian and Asher in my house.

Eclipsa side-eyes Zinnia, who’s marching toward the dining room with a pan of blueberry muffins between her oven mitts. “As soon as we enter the Spring Court, we have to assume every conversation is monitored. So unless you prefer we go there without a plan, which is like charging into battle without a weapon, by the way, and a really stupid, painful way to die, we talk here.”

Right. Tucking my hair behind my ears in a failed effort to hide how tangled it is, I slide into the chair farthest from Valerian. Quiet descends as Zinnia offers muffins and coffee to the group, probably for the twentieth time.

“Zinnia, it’s fine,” I protest, glancing around for signs of Jane. She’ll have already found a weapon, no doubt. “They don’t like our food.”

“I’ll have one of those, please,” Valerian drawls in that elegant, smooth voice. His impeccable manners grate on me. “And a cup of coffee would be delicious, Zinnia.”

Zinnia’s face brightens. “How do you take it?”

“However you take it is fine, Ma’am.”

Ma’am? Suck-up.

Asher nods. “I’ll have the same.” Valerian scowls at the dragon shifter, and he adds, “Ma’am.”

“Me too.” Eclipsa spots my annoyed look and shrugs. “What? We’re polite. Mortals like that stuff. It puts them at ease around us.”

Hardly. A tiger with fangs and manners is still a tiger. But I don’t argue as Zinnia sets a basket of muffins, a little container of butter shaped like a cow, and a pitcher of sweet tea and lemons on the table.

She sweeps a curious look over Valerian before settling her knowing smile on me.

I frown. My two worlds have suddenly collided, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. After what happened to her family, it takes limitless amounts of grace and forgiveness for Zinnia to serve the Evermore in her own home.

I’ve never been more convinced than now that Zinnia’s too good for this jacked up world.

After breakfast is on the table, and Zinnia assures me Vi has been placated and Jane kicked from the house, we get to work. I sip my black coffee, listening to Eclipsa detail what she knows about the Spring Court palace and the magical safeguards while surreptitiously stealing glances at Valerian.

He’s picking at the blueberries inside the muffin with his fork, lips twisted into a perplexed frown. I watch him carve off a little chunk, the pastry steaming from the inside, and place it onto his tongue.

Pure joy lights his face, and I stifle a grin.

Valerian Sylverfrost likes blueberry muffins.

He might not be capable of love, but this confirms he does indeed have a soul.

“We strike during the gauntlet,” Eclipsa is saying. She stares down at her milky coffee before apparently deciding it’s not drinkable. “If Hellebore has the Darken’s soulstone or pieces of the Worldslayer, they’ll be stashed below, in his private underground chambers. I know from experience he keeps everything he considers valuable or wants to hide there.” She pauses, daring Asher to make a quip about how she knows all this, but dragon boy smartly keeps his mouth shut. “I can only confirm three chambers for sure. Besides the vault with poisons and other treasures, there’s a torture chamber and . . . an adjoining bedroom.”

No one questions why one would have a bedroom adjoining a torture chamber.

I frown. “Are you sure you have to do it while I’m in the gauntlet? Maybe I can help somehow.”

“It has to be then, when everyone’s distracted.” Eclipsa sets her fork down on her plate; she hasn’t touched her muffin. “We’ll have to disarm Hellebore’s spells to gain entry, but I happen to know those already. And the spells on the vault shouldn’t be that hard to crack.”

A proud smirk dances across her face.

Of course. Assassins have to be able to break into stuff.

The coffee burns my lips as I take a sip, trying to wrap my head around everything. It all sounds so easy, which is a bit alarming considering how very deadly our plan really is. If they’re caught, they could be executed.

A flash outside my window draws my attention to Jane. She’s armed with my old bow, peering through the glass at our visitors. The twins and Tanner linger near the top of the stairs, watching my friends with curious gazes.

Asher shifts nervously. “Has anyone else noticed we’re slowly being surrounded?”

“Afraid of wee little mortals, Asher?” Eclipsa teases.

“The tiny girl keeps sticking her tongue out at me,” he points out, obviously disturbed by this. “And the other one picks his nose and then eats it.”

“They’re children,” Valerian comments. “All children are odd, but not particularly dangerous.”

Asher stares through narrowed eyes at them. Most Fae rarely encounter children of any kind. Evermore lock their babies away from society, the children raised by lower Fae until they’re in their teens and therefore old enough not to be a nuisance.

I actually totally get that policy right now as I watch Tanner load up his homemade slingshot and point it at Asher’s head. Asher bares his teeth, and Tanner grins in challenge, ready to let his marble fly.

Sweet Baby Jesus, save me.

Before all hell can break loose, Zinnia threatens the kids with a flyswatter and they scatter, growling like the little monsters they are.

As my friends finish their food, I find myself chuckling under my breath. Asher lifts his delicate china mug to his mouth, the cup tiny in his huge paw. Valerian finishes off his third muffin. He’s still eating it with his fork like a psycho—but he gets a pass for now. Even Eclipsa has found something to like; Zinnia brought her an ice-cold glass of sweet tea, and the Lunar assassin took one drink and then downed the entire glass.

I can’t help but think that if these Evermore and my family can find a way to co-exist, then there’s hope for humanity yet. Now all I have to do is win the final gauntlet, expose Hellebore, find a way to keep Mack in school, nab that internship, get over Valerian Sylverfrost, and change the world.

Easy fricking peasy.

43

I thought the Spring Court Palace and royal estates were overwhelming the last time I visited. But now, with the special event broadcasted to all the courts, the entire place brims with flowers and life.

Daffodils, crocuses, and tulips line the cobblestone paths that weave through the overdone gardens and lush lawns around the estate. Amethyst and butter-yellow wildflowers grow everywhere, and jewel-toned dragonflies flash against a lapis sky so blue it appears fake.

Valerian, Asher, and Eclipsa have already left for the Keepers’ tent to register and then join the festivities. Only the shadows entering the final gauntlet, their Keepers, and royalty are allowed inside the main palace for the event.

The rest of the attending Evermore and students will arrive tomorrow to watch the gauntlet live from a special stadium. The shadow entrants’ Keepers, however, can watch the gauntlet from a special room inside.

If everything goes according to plan, Valerian and Asher will sneak Eclipsa into the palace during the gauntlet tomorrow. While everyone is distracted watching the shadows try not to die, my friends will search for the stolen soulstone and axe shard.

Either will prove Hellebore’s guilt.

As soon as I round a wall of hedges, Magus spots me and trots over. His silky red tail swishes behind him.

Large moss green eyes appraise me. “I heard you entered the gauntlet, Miss Solstice.”

“Surprised?” I ask as he begins to lead me past some sort of game being played by Spring Evermore that involves throwing sprites through hoops high in the air.

“Not in the least,” he admits. His equine ears twitch back as he smiles. “Once one gets used to you doing the opposite of what one expects, you’re entirely predictable.”

I still haven’t worked out if that’s a compliment by the time I reach the group of fourth years standing by a large wading pool shaped like a butterfly. The fourth years cut their gazes at me, not even bothering to hide their disdain.

“Thank you.” I scratch Magus behind his ears. “You’ve always been kinder than all the others. Hopefully we’ll see more of each other when I’m a third year.”