Spring

Warmth blooms from my chest. A green light radiates from my sternum and pulses across the night. The hound sits back on its hindquarters for a moment, shaking its head and seemingly stunned.

What the frick?

Did that come from my pendant? I pull at the chain but . . . no, in the chaos, my pendant got turned around and rests against my back.

That came from inside me.

“Giant hairy orc balls,” Ruby hisses. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” I whisper, slowly walking backward away from the hellhound, who’s gotten over his stupor and is approaching, curved incisors bared. Saliva drips from each fang.

My panic grows as I take in its protruding ribs and sharp backbone. Oh, hell. This thing looks starved.

“You sent off a distress signal or something.” Ruby dives from my head and flits in front of me, hands on her temples, shaking her head back and forth.

“Like the bat signal?” I murmur just as my feet reach the edge of the cliff at my back. Rocks clatter down the cliffside into the raging river.

“I don’t know! It was a giant call for help. You know, like a wounded rabbit caught in a trap that screams . . .”

“Only to attract bigger predators,” I finish as silhouettes emerge from the shadowy woods.

I scan the Evermore, but I know deep down none of them are Valerian. I would feel his presence if he were close.

The hound halts, its shaggy head whipping to face the Evermore, a low warning snarl spilling from its deep chest.

Whatever it sees, the hellhound’s growl becomes a low whine as it ducks back into the woods and flees.

For some reason, I remember Hellebore’s words about the predators fighting each other off to claim their prey. Only whoever is stalking this way is so terrifying that the hellhound didn’t even try to fight for me.

14

When the approaching Evermore laughs, my worst fears come to life. Inara. At least before, she couldn’t outright act on her hatred of me. But now, jacked up on primordial magic straight from the depths of the Fae Hells, she looks like she could eviscerate me and wear my entrails as a necklace without batting an eye.

As she stalks closer, I realize she’s mostly still in her non-shifted form, although her eyes have taken on a feline quality, and fangs protrude from her upper lip.

That would seem like a good sign except flanking her are three fully shifted Evermore. The first, a sleek snow leopard with faded silver spots and menacing features, is definitely Bane. The second, a beautiful gray wolf, is probably Lyra, her lycan bestie.

And I recognize the part wolf, part elk creature near the back as Rhaegar. His lupine gaze is near unrecognizable as he watches me with a terrible hunger.

Inara’s cruel grin settles low in my stomach. “We heard your cry for help, little lamb. Were you calling for your Winter Prince?” She makes a show of looking around while the others slowly circle me. “A shame, he’s not here. I guess he’s finally tired of you.”

All the moisture shrivels from my mouth as I scour the area for an escape route. Nothing. I throw a quick glance over my shoulder at Asher—

“Grayscale won’t save you either,” Inara adds. “He’s going to be busy for a while, I think.”

Clenching my jaw, I force myself to face her. Something glints from her hand—a golden chain.

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m flattered you want me as your shadow, Inara, but I’ll die before you get that metal around my neck.”

“If you insist.” She swings the chain in little circles as she draws closer. “But I don’t want you, idiot. Someone else decided you’d make an entertaining pet. He probably heard how fond you are of your Keepers.”

Crap. Only one dickwad prince could make her do his bidding. Hellebore. I eye the chain, heart jackhammering into my ribs. “Are you forgetting what Hellebore did the last time you tried to mess with me?”

Her head falls back as she laughs. “You think he cares if I hurt you? He’s watching us right now.”

That mofo. Hoping he can hear me, I shout, “What kind of spineless bastard has others do his dirty work?”

“The kind that likes to play twisted little games with lesser creatures like yourself.” She grins, lifting the chain. “Now come here, little lamb. It’s time to see if we can tame you.”

I bolt to my right, but Bane is on me in a flash, his mouth stretched wide, showing off his inch-long fangs. I pivot to my left, only to run up against Lyra as she charges, herding me back to my spot on the cliff.

My heart pounds in my skull, mixing with the sound of the rushing water at my back.

Desperation kicks in. Ruby has taken to the air and is dive bombing the Evermore, trying to take their attention away from me. Bane swipes the air with his claws, barely missing Ruby. Lyra snaps at the air trying to catch her.

The plucky sprite keeps attacking.

Any one of those blows could kill her . . .

“Ruby!” I plead. “Get out of here.”

Inara grins as her eyes shift to the stubborn sprite, who refuses to give up her hopeless attack. Refuses to save herself, because she’s the best damn sprite in the entire Everwilde.

And now, Inara is going to hurt her.

No. My insides twist as I read the intention in Inara’s sneer.

Something inside me snaps. No more.

Baring my teeth, I lunge forward before the others can stop me and catch Inara with a roundhouse kick to the face. My bare foot smacks her jaw with a satisfying crack.

I’m going to savor that sound for the rest of my undoubtedly short existence.

Her eyes widen. She was expecting me to retreat, to beg and plead. Not to fight back.

If murder had a face, it would be Inara’s right now. I’m so going to pay for that.

But not right now. Using her surprise, I snatch Ruby from the air, shoot for the cliff, and leap.

The second my feet push off the rocky side and the ground disappears, the absolute insanity of my decision becomes apparent.

Shitshitshit—

My stomach churns as I careen toward the raging river.

“Kid, you’re a badass!” Ruby screams, throwing her arms into the air as if she’s on the best rollercoaster ride of her life.

As I release my fingers, sending Ruby to freedom, I can’t help but think that’s the greatest compliment Ruby could ever give me.

Oh, goody, maybe they can put it on your tombstone.

Frothy waves swallow me.

The force of the river takes my breath away. I claw to the surface, gasping, trying to escape the water’s wrath as it slams me into boulders, holds me under, and knocks me in circles until I can’t tell which way is up.

By the time I find a log to cling to, the roar of the waterfall is deafening. I catch Ruby darting above me. She’s holding a limp willow branch as if she could possibly pull me up.

“Grab ahold, Kid!” Ruby screeches, her voice filled with pure terror.

But it’s too late. I hit the edge of the waterfall with just enough time to look over and realize how far down below the water is. Hundreds of feet.

Hundreds. Too high to survive. From this distance, every bone in my body will break.

For some reason, Hellebore’s voice slithers into my mind. I can fly. Can you?

They won. Inara, Hellebore, the whole evil lot of them. Rage pierces my core. I scramble for a foothold on the rocky bottom. For an indention in one of the nearby boulders to grab. I buck against the river’s force, fighting the violent current with all my strength.

I’ve never wanted to live more than now, just so I can watch the hateful smirk drain from their eyes as they realize I survived. My will to live is a spiteful, burning thing. Greater than anything I’ve ever felt before.

It’s so powerful, so real, that I actually think it could magically change my circumstances.

But that doesn’t happen because no matter how much I negotiate and plead with it, gravity’s a bitch.

The second the water shoots me into the air, legs churning and dress tangled around my face, I drop like a freaking rock.

A falling feeling hollows out my stomach, and then I’m tumbling down the waterfall to my death.

15

I always assumed in the seconds before my death, some weird type of calm would come over me, like the clarity main characters in movies find right before they pass away. Instead, I’m pissed. Rage-kicking the air as I freefall. Screaming every curse word I can muster.

One second I’m hurtling toward the lake below.

The next, the world around me goes still as my body jerks to a halt. The force knocks the breath from my lungs in a whoosh. The dark silhouette of wings blot out the stars as they beat the air, which has suddenly gone ice cold.

And I know. I just know.

“Valerian?” I breathe, afraid this is some death dream. A final firing of my synapses.

That the sharp ache throbbing inside my chest, the one I only feel when I’m around him, is fear-induced.

The arms around my waist tighten almost . . . possessively. “Don’t move. Please.”

The low, rasping voice is Valerian’s—yet different. Primordial. Almost . . . bestial.

Something about it scrapes down my spine.

I shiver, drowning the urge to face my protector as my instincts warn me into absolute stillness. My belly lurches as we dive beneath the falls.

The curtain of water gives way to darkness. We’re inside a cave of sorts. The air damp and cold.

Despite Valerian’s warning, as soon as my bare feet feel slippery ground beneath them, I pivot, jerking away from him and—

“Valerian?” I whisper, startled by his face.

“Don’t look at me,” he growls.

My body tenses, but I refuse his plea. He hasn’t provided any magic to chase away the shadows, but the moonlight filtering through the watery curtain illuminates just enough of his features to make me gasp.

Somehow he’s even more beautiful than I recall, but in a dark, unnerving way that sends my adrenaline through the roof. His normally cliffed cheekbones are inhumanly jagged, his peaked eyebrows sharper, and his eyes . . . oh, God.

His eyes are wild. Feral. Brimming with ancient, unfathomable power.