Spring

Reina nods, a gleeful smirk lifting her cheeks.

Anger and fear darken my heart. If they hurt Mack, I’ll gut them.

Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

Relief loosens my shoulders as Inara’s cruel focus drifts back to me. “It’s hot, isn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t you take off your shirt and shorts?”

No. I refuse. Hell no . . .

Looking down, I watch in horror as my fingers curl under my shirt and tug up up up—

A cold breeze ripples over my bare stomach and chest as I lift the shirt over my head and chuck it to the ground. My shorts are next. When I’m done, only my gray underwear and black sports bra cover me.

I know none of this is my fault. I know I’m not in control. But shame fills me anyway.

A deep, raw, overwhelming shame.

“Pathetic.” Inara looks me up and down. “What? Did you think you could force your way back into the academy with that stunt last semester and escape punishment?” She glances around, her blue lips curled in derision. “As long as Summer is enrolled in the academy, I will punish all of you. But I’m not without mercy.” She flashes an icy smile to prove her point. “The first shadow responsible for making Summer flunk out or be expelled will not only have my favor, but you’ll receive a fourth year’s stipend.”

By fourth year, shadows actually earn a wage for their services. It’s not much, but considering our work conditions now, being paid anything is like winning the lottery.

The morning air felt pleasant moments ago, but now it seems to slip right through my flesh and into my bones. I shiver, unable to move, to speak, to do anything but watch as Inara orders the students to come forward.

“Let’s remind this mortal of what she really is: trash.”

A few seem to enjoy the spectacle, but most shadows’ eyes are apologetic as, one by one, they dump their plates and cups over my head.

Hot coffee. Cool orange juice. Greasy eggs. Still-warm biscuits sticky with blackberry jam. A veritable feast cascades over me.

Stay strong. Inara can only hurt you if you let her.

But each time I feel someone’s breakfast fall around my shoulders, each time sticky apple juice soaks my hair and wets my bra—the one I carefully wash every night because it’s the only bra I own—a piece of my dignity gets chipped away.

When it’s Mack’s turn, tears clump the eyelashes framing her soft blue eyes. Tears I know she won’t shed because she’s strong, and we prepared for this possibility.

It’s not your fault, I think, trying to will my thoughts across the air between us.

After she’s through dumping her latte and bowl of oatmeal over my head, Inara dismisses her.

Grinning, Inara waves her fingers in front of my face. My lips soften; the magic muzzle preventing me from speaking falls away.

“Ready to leave the academy?” she asks. “I promise, you don’t want this to escalate.”

It’s hard to summon dignity when you’re half-naked and covered in other people’s breakfast, but hell if I’m not going to try.

I refuse to let her break me.

I. Fricking. Refuse.

Holding her stare, I lick a glob of chocolate from the side of my cheek and grin. “Thanks. I was starving.”

That’s right, you snowflake psycho. You can’t break me.

Reina’s grin falters. She lowers the camera. Kimber and Lyra exchange surprised looks. There might be a sliver of respect in Kimber’s face . . . or she might simply find me more appealing as a mortal snack when I’m lathered in sugary pastries.

But the emotion beneath Bane’s icy features is one hundred percent rage. “Are you going to let her talk to you like that?”

Inara’s expression is terrifyingly blank as she laughs, a sharp, murderous sound. “We’re just playing a game, that’s all. Rhaegar, come here.”

In my periphery, Rhaegar eagerly follows her command. My stomach lurches. I know I’ve gone too far, embarrassing her in front of the Six. Goose bumps prickle my exposed skin, my chest tight with dread.

Basil is behind Rhaegar, whispering heatedly in his ear. With a growl, Rhaegar shoves the poor fawn, sending him tumbling into a trio of planters. Blue ceramic, soil, and cotton-candy pink pansies go flying.

“Here.” Inara gives a dismissive wave in my direction, as if I truly am trash to be discarded. “She’s yours for the day. Do whatever you’d like with her.”

My stomach lurches. All my dreams of thriving at school, of graduating and doing something good with my life, disintegrate.

Fae like Inara and Rhaegar will never let that happen.

Walling off my emotions, I grit my teeth, ready to face whatever happens next.

I’m so wrapped up in my anger that I don’t notice the scent. Not at first. Not until the others are already falling back, their sneers transforming into confusion.

Rhaegar’s head snaps up, his nostrils flaring as he inhales.

Alarm flickers inside his eyes. Like a wolf suddenly scared off by a larger predator, he darts away.

All at once, the perfume fills my nostrils, a potent, overwhelming bouquet of floral scents. As if lilies, roses, jasmine, and honeysuckle all got busy and had a giant flower baby.

Inara screams. At the same time, the courtyard trembles. Flowering vines surge from the ground, exploding from the small fissures between the cobblestones.

The crack of stone rends the air.

Before Inara can move, the ropy green vines snake up her long legs, up her torso, twisting over her arms. I watch in shock as the vines lift my tormentor into the air like a rag doll.

Inch-long thorns pierce her pale flesh, drawing out beads of metallic silver blood.

Her lips peel open in another scream, but she makes strangled, gurgling noises. Something white sprouts inside the chasm of her mouth—a humongous magnolia flower.

Her eyes stretch wide. She’s . . . choking.

The air stirs with creatures. A swarm of bees appears, darkening the sky above as they descend on the Fae. Blue jays and robins dive bomb my tormentors, picking at their flesh and adding to the confusion. Giant red wasps buzz by my head as they violently attack the others.

This is a whole lot of nope. Whatever new Fae horror I’ve stumbled into, I want nothing to do with it. The moment my magical binds spring free, I jump into action.

For some idiotic reason, the first thing I do is gather my clothes and slip them on.

Even here, in the middle of all this chaos, Aunt Vi’s lessons on modesty supersede my survival instincts.

Mack rushes to my side and begins to drag me away. At the same moment, Ruby tugs on my earlobe, hard. “Run, Kid, while the maniac is distracted!”

Except I don’t think Inara’s distracted—unless distracted is a new word for actively dying.

Her face has turned a sickly blue, her eyes glossy with raw fear. Ducking the stinger of the biggest hornet I’ve ever seen, Bane throws spears of ice at the tendrils trapping his sister, while Kimber uses her inhuman strength to hold onto Inara legs, and Lyra shreds her claws over the plants.

But there’s too many vines and creatures. In less than a minute, the entire Elite Six is caught in a nightmarish display, each Fae trapped and bound by sentient vines, at the mercy of whoever is attacking them.

Pushing my curiosity aside, I let Ruby and Mack shove me away from the murderous scene. As I sprint across campus toward the main hall, I can’t help but look at the beautiful landscape with a newfound fear.

By the powerful display of magic, I know an Evermore just saved me. I also know that thinking this new, terrifying Fae is my friend is dangerous.

If I’ve learned anything in my short, traumatizing time here, it’s that an Evermore never does anything for free. Meaning I now owe a debt I have no means to pay.

5

“Who the Shimmer was that?” I pant as we round the last hall and the second year lockers appear. What I wouldn’t give for a freaking shower right now. Every part of me is covered in breakfast, and the ankle socks inside my sneakers squish with orange juice.

Ruby, perched on my shoulder, plucks a piece of frosted donut from my hair, shoves it in her mouth, and glances up at me. “That was the Spring Court Prince and heir.”

I have no idea who that is, but by the way Mack’s mouth hangs open, it must be bad.

“Prince Hellebore attends Whitehall Academy,” Mack protests.

It’s my turn to gape. “There’s another academy?”

Both look at me as if I should know this. “Centuries ago,” Mack explains, “there was an incident. After that, the royals from the Spring Court decided to create their own academy. It’s not officially recognized by the Unseelie Courts or the council.”

We find our lockers and quickly throw our books inside.

“But there are Spring Court Evermore here,” I insist, my brain refusing to believe two places like this could exist.

“That’s because Whitehall Academy is uber elite, so most Spring Evermore don’t get accepted. Only the highest ranking Seelie Evermore attend, usually royals, and it’s located in Spring Court territory instead of neutral territory.”

“Oh.” I ignore the stare from a female shadow rushing by us in the hall. I can’t even imagine what I look like. “So the Spring Court prince just randomly decided to attend here?”

Ruby shrugs. “Kid, all I know is that magic was powerful enough to take down Inara Winterspell and the Six. All because of you. And being the center of any powerful Evermore’s attention—other than lover boy—is a wonderful way to shorten your already tiny mortal lifespan.”

I shut my locker, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and grin. “I hope they got that on video. Now, off to . . .”

I look to Ruby for a reminder of my first period, but she just shrugs and goes back to licking the syrup from a tangled strand of my hair.

Mack frowns. “Summer, go shower. I’ll explain to your teacher what happened—”

“No.” I cross my arms, cringing as they stick together. “If I miss my first class, they win. It proves that I can’t handle being here. I’m already on thin ice after my expulsion last semester, and now, with Inara’s incentive to get me kicked out . . .”