“Mack?” I scour the dining room as if she might still be here. “When?”

“Right before you woke up.” A smile lifts her cheeks. “I could tell she was scared; it took her ten minutes to knock on the door. But she did, and then she demanded to know if you’re okay.”

Crap, why didn’t I think to get word to her?

“What did you tell her?”

“That you were fine, but sleeping. You’d had a late night.”

My cheeks burn. Does Eclipsa know I eavesdropped last night?

After that, a heavy silence descends. The prince is doing his best to ignore me. Surprise, surprise.

I reach across the table, butter some toast, and slather it with some fig jam. Time for step one of my plan: kill him with kindness. “Sleep well, Prince?”

His gaze darts to me and back to stare solemnly into his honeydew-green tea. “Fine.” Eclipsa clears her throat and he adds, “You?”

“Great,” I lie. “Ready for today?”

His silver-blue eyes are almost the same color as the clouds outside as they regard me beneath ink-blue eyebrows. “Always.”

“Good.” I snatch the rest of the toast from the table, ignoring the disapproving scowl from a lesser Fae servant, and shoulder into my coat. “See you after lunch.”

The minute the door shuts behind me, I sag against it, not sure whether to laugh or cry. I have no idea if my plan will reach beneath that icy surface—or if there’s anything there to even reach—but damn if it won’t be fun trying.

38

Two whole months. That’s how long I’ve been trying to crack the prince’s icy facade. And so far, it’s been a total failure.

I’ve been the perfect shadow. I greet him every morning like he’s my favorite person on earth. I’m helpful during classes, grab him items before he asks, and go the extra mile by making sure all his pencils are sharpened and his electronics charged. I’ve improved in combat class, the extra lessons with Eclipsa finally paying off.

But none of it has gotten me any closer to him; in fact, some days I think it’s the opposite. The nicer I am, the more I present myself as a human being, the more he resents me. He’s gone most nights now, so I never see him at the house.

Rumor has it he’s back with Inara, not that I give a flying frick.

Exhaling, I breathe out my frustrations as I lean my head back, taking in the rare sun. All the first year students are sitting on blankets in the snowy grounds near the lake, enjoying a picnic before our excursion begins.

The combined field trip is put on every year by our Mythological Creatures and Potions and Poisons classes.

All around me, students try to guess where we’re going.

“Somewhere in the Spring Court, hopefully,” Evelyn says, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

In this light, the gold filaments between the red are visible. Man, I would kill for hair like that.

“I couldn’t care less,” Mack says. She’s dressed in khaki shorts and knee-high riding boots, Ray Ban aviator sunglasses hiding her eyes. “As long as the tacos keep coming, I’m happy.”

Our food is catered by the students’ top choice, and this year the restaurant just happened to be my favorite taco truck stand in existence, Locos Tacos.

The purple-and-gold checkered blanket we sit on is soft against my legs. Wherever we’re going on this mysterious field trip, we were told to be ready for warmer weather, and I’ve rolled my jeans up as high as they go.

But it’s unseasonably warm on the Island too. Despite being early December, the sun’s kiss breaches my thin powder-blue sweater.

I could have worn shorts, I suppose. The prince provides me with an endless supply of clothes for every occasion, even though I only ever go with the leather pants, loose sweatshirts, and hoodies.

But then I’d have to ask him for a razor, and I’m tired of him giving me things to make up for his callousness.

A shadow draws lazy circles around our blanket. The prince’s owl. He follows me when Eclipsa or the prince aren’t with me.

Nothing has happened since the basilisk; I’m starting to think I overreacted. After all, Everwilde is a dangerous place. Despite the headmistress’s concerns, mortals are bound to die.

It’s the Fae way.

“Gonna eat that or eye screw it?” Mack asks, jerking her chin at the basket of tacos in my lap. I take a bite and pure heaven glides over my taste buds.

“Fae ears,” I moan through a mouthful of green chili pork taco. “I can die happy now.”

Mack wipes her hands on a napkin and grabs another soft taco, the corn tortilla breaking apart between her fingers. Tomatillo sauce smears her cheek, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun. Purple and teal streak the chocolate brown, her newest colors.

“This is better than sex,” she declares like someone who’s had a ton of sex. Which I’m pretty sure she hasn’t.

“Whoa, ladies.” Jace is a first year shadow who, if the rumors are true, has more experience in his pinky than Mack and I have put together. His parents own a bunch of Fae condos in Florida. “You must not have found the right partners yet.”

Mack arches an eyebrow. “And what would you know about that, Jace?”

Everyone knows Jace bats for the other team. Grinning, he gives a careless shrug. “Enough to know if you think a taco is better, you’re doing it wrong.”

“No,” I say, finishing the last bit of mine. “You just haven’t met the right taco.” I wink. “Try the green chili pork; they’ll blow your mind.”

Dusting the shredded cheese from my hands, I get to my feet. On the other side of the grouping, near a cliff overlooking the frozen lake, lounge the Six. Unlike the rest of the Evermore, they refuse to eat with their shadows.

And, of course, they don’t lower themselves to eat our human fare.

A veritable feast of summer fruits and vegetables brought in from Summer Court territories mound little silver trays, and they pick from them lazily beneath a royal-blue pavilion.

Inhaling a lungful of courage, I grab a cardboard boat with two soft tacos and march uphill toward them. As I walk, I catch sight of Rhaegar sitting off near the woods with Basil. Both Evermore look dejected.

My breath catches in my chest, and I quickly look away.

Rhaegar returned to class a few weeks ago. His temporary probation was lifted, and he’s once again a member of the Summer Court. But, despite being a member on paper, he’s ostracized. He eats mainly alone or with Basil, he sits in the back of his classes and doesn’t participate, and he hasn’t taken on a new shadow.

Pushing Rhaegar from my mind, I top the hill with my offerings. Bane is the first one who notices me. He tenses where he sits with Lyra, a silver goblet of Faerie wine between them.

Kimber, the vampire, hisses, “Lost, little shadow?”

Ignoring them, I search for the prince. As I drag my gaze over the lounging bodies, it snags on his hair, a deep sapphire blue in this delicate light. That same tiny shock I get when first seeing him zips through me, the invisible thread between us tugging softly just behind my breastbone.

He’s lying on his back, his head resting in Inara’s lap. Her fingers tangle in his dark locks, and a whisper of jealousy trills through me.

His eyes are closed, but he must sense the change in the air because they snap open and focus on me. He stiffens before carefully extracting Inara’s hands.

“What do you want?” he asks coldly as he gets to his feet. Eclipsa is there by one of the tent poles; she watches our interaction carefully.

My mouth goes dry. Why did I think this was a good idea? But if I’m going to get through his thick shell, this is as good a time as any. Plus, everyone loves tacos. “I just thought you might like to try some . . . tacos.”

Bane snorts, and the rest of the girls follow suit.

“Aw,” Lyra purrs. “Your shadow brought you some of her disgusting human food to try.”

Correction: Fae hate tacos. Of course they do. Heat prickles my face. I hold up the bowl, my stupid stubborn side refusing to leave. “They’re really good.”

The muscles in my body go rigid as Kimber glides over. She moves so fast and gracefully that I blink and she’s here. Her eyes are more red than golden. Crap. I know from my books that means she needs to feed.

Baring the tips of her fangs, she leans close as if to smell my offering.

Only she ignores the tacos, sniffing me instead.

I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the rumors swirling around the dorms that she glamours her shadow into letting her drink from her.

“Hmm,” Kimber purrs, her lips now inches from my throat. “You’re right. It smells delicious.”

The prince strides over, his face impossible to read. Kimber senses his presence and immediately backs off. The others all watch to see what he’ll do.

The prince looks down to the tacos, back to me. “We have enough food here, but thanks.”

I should leave; this is not going as planned at all. But my frustration from all these weeks spent being mannerly and nice, fetching him every single thing in existence and trying to connect with his stupid, infernal black heart suddenly catch up to me. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to try something human. We’re not that bad.”

His cold laugh feels like a thousand tiny knives shredding what’s left of my ego. “Aren’t you?”

My fingers tighten on the taco boat. All I’m trying to do is be nice and bless him with the best freaking tacos in Texas. And his lips—they’re smirking. Crushing my soul with every smarmy twinge.

A surge of rage bursts inside me. My mind blanks.

When it comes to, I’m lifting the tacos and dumping them on the prince’s wicked head. Shredded cheese, greasy ground meat, diced tomatoes, and green chili sauce cascade over him in slow motion. The ingredients that don’t catch in his beautiful hair settle in his shirt collar and shoulders.

A string of lettuce hangs from his nose.

“See,” I snarl, surprised at how unafraid I sound considering I feel like puking. “Delicious.”