“I’ll never understand why some people have to be such dickwads,” Mack mutters.

Ruby sighs. “Evermore like Inara are broken and shattered inside, and they’re only happy when they make others feel the same way they do.”

The profoundness of Ruby’s statement nearly makes me drop my backpack.

Mack slams her locker shut with a loud clang, drawing a few questioning stares from the nearest shadows. “That’s no excuse for her awfulness. I hope the Spring Prince left her there to squirm for a while.”

That makes two of us.

Mack gives me one last look. “You got this, Summer. Take Ruby for support. Second years are allowed to bring their sprites to class if they need them for note taking or . . . whatever.”

Normally I would refuse. Even on her best of days, Ruby is a distraction more than a help. But facing a class full of people rooting for me to fail might just be a bit more bearable with someone I care about nearby.

I pat my shoulder. “Alright, Ruby, ready to be my emotional support sprite?”

“Ready as a broke stripper at a bachelor party.”

“O-kay. I’ll take that as a yes.”

As I sprint down the stairs to my first class, Ruby scraping bits of bacon and eggs from my collarbone, I cheer myself up with lies.

It’s fine. This is fine. You’re fine.

But my gut disagrees, making nervous gurgles. If the first day is any indication of how the rest of the year will go, I’m epically screwed.

Despite my efforts, I’m tardy first period. My Faerie Courts and History teacher, Professor Hawthorne, raises an eyebrow when Ruby and I slip into the room. Thankfully, the towering, jade-skinned Fae is too busy trying to work the new projector screen to publicly remark on my lateness, or the fact that I smell like an IHOP.

As I slip into a seat in the back, Reina laughs. “Who ordered breakfast?”

I’ve already decided my plan of attack this year will be ignoring the insults. Rise above and all that crap.

But Ruby didn’t get the memo on my new, dignified strategy, and she bares her tiny needle-like teeth at Reina. “Who ordered murder? Oh, right. You did if you keep talking smack, mortal harlot.”

Welp, that escalated quickly.

I have no idea what the classroom rules state about threatening death against another student, but thankfully Reina loses interest, and Ruby falls asleep the moment the room darkens and the projector flashes across the wall.

After class ends, I rush to second period, praying Reina isn’t there. But of course she is. In some horrible cosmic twist of fate, I share every class with Inara’s shadow.

The rest of the day goes exactly how I expect. Snickers. Stares. Uninspired jokes. Ruby handing out death threats like a serial killer hands out candy. Professors pretending I’m not covered in syrup and bacon so they don’t have to address why I’m a walking buffet.

At one point between classes, as I unsuccessfully scrub at the stains on my clothes with paper towels in the bathroom, the woman from the CMH strolls in. She glances at my hair, my clothes, frowns, and walks away.

So much for that protection.

A few human shadows afford me looks of pity, but that’s almost worse than being gaped and laughed at.

Somehow, I endure all of it with steely resolve.

Ruby’s rare words of wisdom were right: Inara wants to hurt me until my insides resemble hers. But that can’t happen unless I give her permission to wound me so badly that I shatter.

Now that I know my purpose in life is to protect humans from the Fae, it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than covering me in breakfast to break me.

When it’s time for lunch, I rush back to the dorm to shower and change. A new super cute white crop top and navy blue Nike jogging pants later, I’ve recovered the dregs of my dignity, enough at least to hold my head high.

I glance in the dressing mirror.

Summer, you badass bitch, show them your lady balls are made of Teflon.

Emboldened by my little speech, I wrangle my wet hair into a messy top-knot and sprint back to campus. The fuzzy dandelion seeds that swarm this place stick to my damp skin. I make it back just in time to meet Mack and the others at the picnic tables near the lake.

She tosses me an apple and a cheese stick. “Hurry, they’re cutting lunch short for a mandatory announcement in the main courtyard.”

A dramatic sigh bursts from my chest. “I was just there this morning and look how great that turned out.”

Richard, Jace, and Layla find something else to stare at. A part of me wonders if just by sitting with me, they’re making themselves targets of Inara’s rage.

Once again, I’m radioactive.

Have you accidentally been exposed to Summer Solstice? I think in my best TV lawyer impression. Symptoms may include random bullying, higher risk of death, and social suicide.

Eff my life.

As if Valerian can feel my spirit sagging, my cell buzzes in my pocket. Thank the Shimmer one of Mack’s birthday gifts was a protective case or it would have been fried during my orange juice bath.

Shoving the cheese stick into my mouth, I quickly scan the short text. Eclipsa’s on her way.

My shoulders sag. The last thing I wanted was for Valerian to feel like he has to protect me.

Before I can reply, another text pops up. Want me to come back and talk to Inara?

Yes, I type, can you murder her please and thank you? I stare at my words before hitting delete and writing, No, I can handle it.

As much as I’d love to watch Valerian talk to Inara, I can’t let him fight my battles. Plus, someone already did that . . .

Little dots flash as he writes. I can’t stop thinking about what you’d taste like covered in syrup.

Heat barrels through my core just as Mack yanks my phone away. “Fae tits! What are you, a pancake?”

Her fingers fly over my phone screen as she sends him a barrage of pancake gifs.

Yes—yes I am, I don’t say. A confused, lonely, radioactive pancake.

She shakes her head, sending her silky, multi-colored hair swaying around her face. “If only you could let him butter your pancake, just once, and get him out of your system.”

Water nearly sprays from my nose as I laugh. “There is no just once with him. He’s like . . . like the Ebola virus. The second I let him inside, he’ll infect every cell, every molecule of my being until he owns me.”

Richard and Jace exchange weird looks, while Layla flashes a sympathetic smile. They have no idea who we’re talking about, thankfully.

Jace finishes off his ham sandwich and shoots me a pitying stare. “Not that I’m one for sage relationship advice, but If you’re comparing romance to an infection, you’re probably doing it wrong.”

Shrugging, I shove my phone deep into my pocket. Obviously Jace has never experienced the delicious agony that is Valerian Sylverfrost.

6

We’ve barely started toward the courtyard with the others before Eclipsa appears across campus, near a collection of bright green sculpted hedges. I know she’s furious by the way she marches, her long legs stabbing the lush lawn, arms pumping. She’s dressed for battle in a dark gray leather ensemble fitted with enough knives to take out a small country.

Alarm prickles my skin. Dressed like that, with that many weapons . . .

What is Valerian not telling me?

If I thought I was notorious before, when the infamous Lunar Fae assassin makes a bee-line straight for me, the other human shadows around us gape before scattering like the dandelions swirling in the wind.

“What happened?” she demands, wrapping me in a quick hug.

“Inara happened.”

“You should know better than to eat any food not procured in the comm or the cafeteria, Summer.”

I glare at my shoes. No matter how much I cleaned them, I couldn’t erase the dark coffee stain that mars the white laces and stitching. “There were chocolate croissants.”

Her expression is less than amused.

“Fine. Lesson learned.”

“I’ll have a word with her—”

“No.” I shake my head. “I can’t have you or the prince fighting my battles. If I’m going to live in this world, I have to prove I can handle myself.”

“Okay.” The twitch of her lips tells me she respects my decision.

“So, are you going to divulge what’s going on in the Winter Court?”

She flicks a narrow-eyed gaze my way. “Fae politics. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Is he . . . in danger?” I prod, a strange flutter dancing in my chest.

One of her hands hovers over her favorite dagger, a curved white moonstone blade set in a jade handle. “Nothing he can’t handle.”

I blink as the invisible wires constricting my heart tighten. Does she think that’s supposed to be comforting?

We clear the courtyard steps. A dais sits near the back, white cherry blossoms blowing from the nearby trees and scattering across the stage. The main building rises in the background, the pale stone walls tinged green with ivy.

Wisteria and jasmine tangle over the windows and balcony railings, filling the air with their cloying scent.

I peer at the huge crowd. The entire school is here, from faculty to shadows and Evermore. Even the ancillary staff is in attendance. I spot Magus and wave, but the kind centaur with the beautiful red mane doesn’t see me.

Sprites buzz above our heads, while gnomes, fauns, and other types of lower Fae work in the fragrant gardens around us.

Headmistress Luna Lepidonis takes the stage. Giant gray moths wings with green dots unfurl behind her. Their powdery softness is in stark contrast to her sharp, almost severe features. The entire staff stands behind her.

“Students of Evermore Academy,” she begins. “I have some special news. Because of the darklings continued attacks near the Spring borders, the students from Whitehall Academy have chosen to transfer here for the year.”

A collective gasp travels through the crowd. Beside me, Eclipsa sucks air through her teeth. “Impossible.”

I guess someone didn’t hear what happened after Inara’s stunt this morning.