Beneath my layers of clothing, the hair on my arms stands erect.

The fourth year shadow leads us across the snow into a side courtyard walled in on three sides by a stone fence. A giant oak tree stands sentinel in the middle, its long, regal branches weighted with snow.

As soon as we step foot in the courtyard, the fourth year retreats.

A sudden howling wind draws my eye to a raging wall of snow. It circles around the courtyard like a bubble, faster and faster and faster until we’re trapped.

“What’s happening?” Mack whispers, resituating her scarlet wool scarf around her neck.

“He wants privacy,” I mutter. “Showoff.”

“Who?” Her crystallized breath plumes across the courtyard.

I’d completely forgotten I haven’t told them who we’re meeting. Before I can answer, the Winter Prince emerges from a doorway on the other side, his owl perched on his shoulder. Asher trails beside him, arms crossed over his massive chest and a miserable look on his face. As a shifter, he might be Unseelie, but I learned in class that dragon shifters are cold-blooded by nature and need warmth.

Basically, the opposite of this place.

The moment Asher locks eyes on Mack, the big guy’s face lights up.

My gaze slides to Mack beside me. A blush stains her tanned cheeks, a timid smile playing across her lips as she returns his stare.

The prince and I, on the other hand, glare at each other like opposing generals before a battle.

“Do you have my book?” I say in lieu of greeting, jutting out my hand palm up. I ignore the tiny jump my heart gave at the sight of him. At his stupid messy blue-black hair and perpetual smirk. The moonlight glimmers inside his irises, making them look more silver than blue.

He reaches inside his sable waistcoat and retrieves the leather-bound tome. “You mean, this old thing?”

My eyes narrow. I sense a trick. “Wait, why aren’t you and Asher, you know . . .”

“Overcome by our primal urges?” He arches an infuriatingly sexy blue eyebrow. “Some of us can control our inner beasts . . . when we want to.”

As if just to toy with me, his irises suddenly pulse azure-blue, making his appearance too inhuman for my comfort. Mack gives a little squeak and jumps back a step.

Asher snorts, casting an amused look at the prince. “It’s midnight when you need to worry, little humans. Even the most controlled Fae won’t be able to harness their urge then.”

That’s when the prince and Rhaegar will fight. A twinge of unease settles between my shoulder blades, and I sweep a heavy gaze over the book, held carefully inside the prince’s long fingers. “Why are you giving the book to me if it might help Rhaegar win?”

An arrogant grin carves into his angular jaw. “Because there’s absolutely nothing in this world that will make that happen.”

“Have you read it?”

“Of course not.”

Arrogant dickwad. I reach for the book but he jerks it just out of my reach.

“First,” he says. “Some questions. What did the orc say to you?”

Shivering, I shove my gloved hands into my coat pockets. “That he wanted to eat me . . . but he couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Asher asks, too quickly.

“He wanted to bring me to his master—no, he called him something in another language. The Dom . . . something.”

“Dominus?” the prince finishes softly.

I nod.

Mack gasps, and the muscles flex in Asher’s jaw as he lobs the prince a worried look. Even Ruby begins to shiver inside my pocket.

“Who is the Dominus?” Part of me doesn’t want to know. For some reason, everyone is looking at the prince.

“Every court has different names for him,” Ruby offers. “My fellow sprites call him Blackheart.”

“Who?” I press.

“The Darken,” Mack whispers in a low voice, as if he might hear her.

“King Oberon?” I brush back a strand of my violet-streaked hair from my face. “I thought he was dead?”

“Never mind that,” the prince growls, his expression dark. “Why didn’t you tell me what the orc said when I found you?”

I shrug, hating how stupid I suddenly feel. “I thought it was an orc hierarchy thing, like, on How to Train Your Dragon . . .” My words trail away as his face goes blank with confusion. “You know the movie where the dragons took food to the master dragon?”

Yeah, keep digging yourself a hole of stupidity. Mack grinds her elbow into my ribs and I remember Asher is a real-life dragon.

“No offense, dragon boy,” I add.

He gives me a panty-dropping wink. “None taken, human.”

I almost smile . . . until my gaze wanders to the prince and his sour expression. I can’t understand why he’s so angry. Especially if King Oberon is dead.

“This isn’t a joke,” he finally says. “You need to take our world seriously if you’re going to survive it.”

Hot anger blooms over my cheeks. “I’m trying. All I do is study until my eyes cross. I’ve made A’s on all my tests . . . I practice with Eclipsa until my body is black and blue. What more do you want from me?”

His nostrils flare. “I want you to be safe.”

I wasn’t expecting that, and for a heartbeat, I’m speechless.

How dare he claim the high ground. How dare he try to pretend that all of his cruelty is for my benefit.

Jaw clenched, I close the distance between us. “Safe? If you wanted me safe you would have never brought me to Everwilde.” I yank the sleeve of my coat up until his mark shows, moonlight sparkling inside the metallic lines. “And you would have never branded me like an animal.”

Hot tears sting my throat. Tears I’d rather die than shed in front of him. I hate the control he has over me; I hate that his mark embeds my skin; and I especially hate the knowledge that all it would take is one kind smile, one apology, and my anger would melt away like snow beneath the sun.

Mack takes my gloved hand in hers. Asher finds a spot on the wall to stare at.

The prince and I meet eyes. My heart dances strangely in my chest the longer I hold his stare, that inexplicable pull between us growing stronger, the anger and confusion and frustration rising with it to form a chaotic spell of emotions I can’t break free of.

“Why did you bring me here, Prince?” I will those words over the snow and into the black pit he calls a heart.

For the briefest of seconds, the defensive wall he keeps over his countenance lowers—just enough that I think he might finally open up. Might finally give an answer that indicates he’s not the soulless Fae I suspect he is.

The one who loves to watch me hurt.

Instead, his jaw firms up and that infernal cold mask slips over his face, his eyes going hard and cruel.

He shoves the book into my open hand. “Go back to the gym and stay there until morning. By then, you’ll be mine.”

“Yours?” I hiss, but he’s already stalking across the snow, his stupid cape slithering like a shadow behind him. If I wasn’t afraid the book would disintegrate on impact, I would throw it at his miserable head.

Note to self: wear boots that come off easier.

Just like that, the wall of blinding snow disappears, and the fourth year escorts us back to the gym.

Inside, Mack settles in to watch the rest of the movie with a slice of pizza. The higher ups apparently thought a Twilight marathon and deep dish pies shuttled in from a famous pizzeria in Evernell would keep us content.

It works—for everyone but me. While the others stuff their faces and then nod off to Edward and Jacob fighting over Bella, I pore over the book the prince so pompously gave me.

I’m determined to help Rhaegar win no matter the cost.

At some point, Ruby flutters over to my bed and sits atop the book, her little bean pod shoes making scuffing sounds against the old parchment. I lean down to hear what she has to say.

“I can help you,” she offers carefully. “If the prince wins you as his shadow, I can get you out of Everwilde and back to the human realm.” I open my mouth to object and she adds, “I can do it, you know. I may be small, but I’m good with spells. I can make you invisible to sneak you past the guards. . . or make it so anytime the prince looks at you he develops violent diarrhea. Two weeks, tops, and he’ll trade you.”

Wow, that escalated fast. And what is it with her and bodily functions?

But her offer warms my bitter heart, and I make a little nest of covers by my pillow for her. “Thank you, Ruby, but as long as I bear his mark, he can find me anywhere.”

Fae can’t cross into the human world without a visa. But if a human bears a Fae slave mark, there are plenty of bounty hunters who would find me and bring me back. Not to mention, I’m absolutely positive the Winter Prince has a visa.

It’s like this: the Winter King and his family undoubtedly have a monstrous townhouse in the major cities in the Untouched Zone, while my family can barely scrape by in a dying land.

Because life isn’t kind to those without power.

Turning the page, I go back to my research. Deep in my gut I know the answer I need is inside these stories. And I’ll be damned if I become the prince’s shadow without a fight.

30

I find what I’m looking for on the very last chapter. Breaking Dawn is playing over the television, the meager bluish light just enough to read if I squint really hard. As far as I can tell, everyone is asleep. It must be near midnight.

I’ve blown through exactly thirty chapters of intense recountings of the Nocturus over the years. All of them interesting, intense, and gruesome.

How very, very Fae.

The prologue gives a small history of the Nocturus. The Faerie Courts are notoriously corrupt, so many disputes were decided by the Nocturus, a battle of cunning and magic. In ancient times, there might be one hundred Nocturi held on the two major holidays when Fae powers are at their height: Samhain and the Wild Hunt.

Over the years, the Nocturus fell out of favor. Mostly because the Fae justice system became streamlined once the prince’s grandfather, Oberon, consolidated power to become ruler over all the courts.