Spring

Breathing hard, I wrench the door open and shuffle down the aisle—

Everything goes dark. What the frick? I freeze in confusion. As I take in the black sea of nothingness, cold dread seeps into my veins.

“Hello?” I call, my voice ringing in the absolute silence. As my eyes adjust, I slowly start to pick out shapes from the shadows. Tall, slender shapes.

Trees.

Okay, this is beyond weird. Could it be part of the test? I’ve heard that some professors hold their exams in the field, but wouldn’t they prepare us for that?

“It’s okay,” I whisper, searching the forest for a clue on where to go. “Don’t panic.”

Besides the unnerving quiet, the landscape is gray, lifeless, like a three-dimensional painting of a world that has yet to be colored. Everything is monochromatic and covered in—I swipe my finger across the trunk of a tree—ash?

I find a path. It doesn’t take very long until it hits me. I know this place.

My heart lurches sideways. This isn’t the Everwilde.

Even covered in ash, I recognize the type of trees, honey oak and Texas ash. A familiar path opens up. It zigzags through the forest as it leads to the . . .

Farmhouse. My farmhouse. My home.

A prickle of unease trails down my spine as I make out the humming carried on the light breeze, the same song Zinnia sings every day as she hangs the laundry on the line.

Something is wrong.

I jolt into a sprint toward the farmhouse, terror woven into every cell of my being. Movement catches my eye in my periphery. Shadows flicker strangely, almost like—

The shadow of the tree to my right peels from the ash-covered forest floor and lifts, changing shape as it does. Transforming into a—a—

The creature is so grotesque that I reel back in horror, almost falling on my butt. Spider-like legs stab the ground as the thing scrambles past me. A humanoid head with sunken, eyeless sockets and a withered lipless mouth turns to look at me. Two huge arachnoid fangs flash.

The forest fills with chittering as more spider-like monsters rise from the ash. I’m frozen with terror. Afraid if I move, they’ll notice me. That if I can just be so very still, all of this will go away.

But it’s like I’m not here. Like they’re moving past me, more interested in—

Oh, God.

I start to run, but I’m too late. Hundreds of monsters scurry across the forest toward the farmhouse.

No, please no. Horror curdles in my gut. I’m gagging on warm bile, struggling to drag air into my lungs enough to scream, to warn them.

This can’t be happening.

As I clear the tree line and the white two-story house comes into view, my world shrinks to the scene in front of me. Everyone is outside. Zinnia, Jane, and Tanner hanging up the laundry on the clothesline, Aunt Vi sipping a glass of iced tea on the porch. The twins are riding their bikes in circles around the well.

They don’t even have a chance to scream before the monsters descend. They swarm over my family, decimating the people I love most in this world before I can utter a gasp.

I collapse to my knees as the gurgle of blood, the sharp puncturing sound of fangs sinking through flesh, fills my mind.

Blood—so much blood. It’s everywhere. Sprayed in arcs over the white bed sheets swaying in the light breeze. And the smell—it’s choking me. Coating my throat and my mouth and oh God, I can’t take this—

Thrashing forward, I vomit. Heaving over and over until I can’t breathe.

This can’t be real. But I see the creatures feasting on my family. Snapping their bones. Drinking their blood. Doing things so terrible my brain can’t process it.

Something inside me splits open, a wail spilling from my chest . . .

19

I come to seemingly floating in the air. There’s no more sky. No more farmhouse or clothes stained red or pieces of my family strewn over the ground. Instead of the metallic scent of blood, the familiar scent of pine and juniper fills my nose.

Arms—there are arms beneath me. I’m pressed into someone’s chest, held like a child, the feeling so comforting and protective that I nearly sigh with relief. By the way my body presses into the cool flesh, I know without looking that it’s Valerian.

“My family,” I croak, trying to shift to look at his face, but agony follows the simple movement.

“Fine.” Valerian’s voice soothes the jagged wound inside my chest. “Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real.”

Wasn’t real. Wasn’t real. Wasn’t real.

I repeat the phrase over and over, each cleansing breath I take clearing more of the horrifying images from my mind until I can finally, finally convince myself what I experienced truly didn’t happen.

He lays me down on a bed—his bed—and that’s when I remember what I was doing before I fell into that living nightmare.

“The test!” I lift up, the sudden movement sending tiny nails driving into my skull. “Ow.” Groaning, I shut my eyes and clutch my head, gouging my knuckles into my temples. “Is there, by chance, a tiny man hammering into my head?”

His cool breath brushes my cheek as he leans down, easing me onto the bed. “You’re going to feel like death for a few minutes until the tormentor spell you walked into clears your system.”

Of course it’s called a tormentor spell. I sigh, some of the tension bleeding from my shoulders and neck. “So all of that was . . . a hallucination?”

“Yes. That particular spell takes your worst fears and brings them to life in macabre ways.”

Wonderful. “Please don’t tell me I vomited in front of everyone.”

Damning silence. Crap. I open my eyes only to slap a hand over them as the light sears into my brain.

“Was it Inara? I’m going to murder her and then have Eclipsa transfer her soul just so I can murder her again.”

He chuckles, the throaty sound hinting that he’s still right next to me. “Whoever set that spell in the doorway hid their mark, so there’s no way to tell, but I’m absolutely going to have a chat with her about it.”

“No, please. I need to deal with her on my own.”

I can hear the hesitation in his silence. I begged the same thing after the incident at the Wild Hunt, too. As much as I would love to see Valerian handle Inara, I can’t let him fight my battles.

My eyes are still squeezed shut, which is unnerving considering I can feel Valerian watching me. “Wait, why am I in your room?”

“I was running late to class, so I only discovered you were hurt when Eclipsa and Asher were already sprinting down the hall with you. The quickest way to break a tormentor spell is to remove the victim from the original spell’s location. When I saw you, Summer, wailing in Asher’s arms, your face contorted in pain—I freaked out. My need to protect you made me see everyone as a potential threat, even Asher and Eclipsa.”

“Did you hurt them?” I ask, startled.

“Hurt isn’t the right word. It takes a lot to injure a dragon shifter and Lunar assassin. But they’ll be sore for a few days and rightfully pissed.” He exhales. “I might have also set up wards to keep everyone out.”

I’m alone. With Valerian. In his bed. The bond between us tugging low in my belly, growing more and more insistent with every second that passes. Flooding my body with a startling, feverish heat.

This feels . . . dangerous.

My eyes pop open as I feel cool wetness on my cheeks. Valerian meets my stare, a gray washcloth bunched in his hand. Without a word, he cleans the puke from my face. My hair. Gently. The act so caring, so intimate that I have to look away.

Once he’s done, I struggle to my elbows once again. “I need to get up. The test—”

“I’ve already arranged a new time for you to take it in the morning. The spell should leave your system soon, but until then, you’re going to rest.”

“If I don’t?”

“Then the link between the spell and your psyche will reactivate from the stress and you’ll experience the same thing over again.” He stares down at me, daring me to argue.

I kind of want to just because he’s being so bossy, and also because he looks hot when he’s mothering me, but there’s no way in the Fae hells I’d survive another hallucination watching freakish arachnid creatures slaughter my entire family.

So I peer through my lashes at him and say, “Fine, but I’m not missing training tonight.”

“Good.” He flashes a wolfish grin. “Because I’m not going to take it easy on you.”

“And I need a shower,” I add.

“Done.” His sharp eyebrows arch devilishly. “Let me know if you need any help with that.”

Oh, boy. The horny hooker inside me takes his suggestion and runs with it like a quarterback near the end zone—

Get a grip, Summer. This is all physical, a reaction to the magic, not your heart.

Blowing out a steadying breath, I say, “I think I can manage that alone.”

His face is emotionless as he watches me a moment longer before turning to go.

“Are you leaving?” I blurt. I should be relieved, but I’m still raw from watching spider-creatures massacre my family and I don’t want to be by myself right now.

He glances back over his shoulder. When I see the dark intent in his eyes, my stomach flutters wildly.

“Princess, you’re in my bed. Alone. And I’m already overwhelmed by the primal need to make you mine so I can protect you properly. So unless you want that to happen, I should probably go. Besides, I need to reassure your friends that you’re okay.”

“Mack?”

“The one and only. She and your sprite are currently making a scene at my front door.”

My heart sinks. She must be so worried. Is she done with the test already?

“I’ll let them in and tell them you’ll come down in thirty minutes.”

After he leaves, I fire off a million texts to Zinnia’s new phone, a gift from Nick. Once she replies with pictures of the kids plus a rant about Aunt Vi, I go for that shower.