Winter

“They’re all iron,” someone remarks.

The professor nods, a strange look on his face. “The forbidden magic melded into the weapons made it possible for the Fae who created the weapon to wield it against another Fae. Does anyone know how forbidden dark magic is created?”

Reina, who’s standing near the axe looking for all the world like she might lift it when no one’s looking, raises her hand. “Forbidden magic is created when a soulmancer takes a Fae soul and drains its essence to use in a spell.”

“Very good, Miss Rinehart,” Professor Crenshaw says.

Reina shoots me an arrogant smirk.

“Some of these weapons may have been forged with dark magic using up to one hundred souls.” The professor sucks in his cheeks as if the very thought gives him a bad taste. “They are sentient, in a fashion. The guards outside say sometimes they can hear them calling to their masters.”

“What would happen if you touch, say, the bow over there?” Jace asks.

The professor draws near to the longbow and quiver in question, a bright gleam in his eyes. “Why it would kill me dead, boy. This bow gives its master speed and unrivaled marksmanship.”

“Were they all used in battles against other Fae?” I ask, mesmerized.

“Some. But just as many were used against darklings.”

“Even back then?” Reina asks, her love for the dark weapons matching my own.

“Oh, yes. Darklings in some form have always existed in our lands—although not to the degree they infest it now. During the ancient battles between troll and Fae, the troll created darklings using the same forbidden magic that permeates these weapons. In fact,” the professor reaches out his fingers as if to touch the tassel hanging from the quiver, then smartly thinks better of it, “a Fae princess once used this bow to kill a hundred darklings in less than a minute.”

I stare in wonder at the seemingly simple longbow, bands of iron and turquoise embedded in the ironwood. An inscription is gilded at the bottom of the leather quiver.

May every arrow find its mark the way you did my heart.

I hardly breathe as I stare at the weapon, wondering who the inscription could be for.

“You are lovely, aren’t you?” I hear myself purr before Mack grabs my arm and drags me over to a crossbow that’s supposedly haunted.

Forget the Winter Prince. I need to find a boyfriend who dedicates a forbidden weapon to me.

43

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me?” Mack asks. She tries to hide the worry in her voice but it’s there, along with two lines that crinkle between her dark brows whenever she’s uneasy.

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. It might be nice to be alone for a few days, and I have to catch up on reading for Potions and Poisons class.”

She snorts. “You’ve aced every single test so far in that class. In all our classes. I think you’ve even surpassed me for highest grade in our class. Surely you can relax for a few days?”

Sighing, I give her a huge hug. How I lucked out in landing Mackenzie Fairchild as my BFF, I’ll never know. But I can’t tell her that being at her house, watching her family celebrate Christmas, will remind me too much of my family. Not without ruining her holiday, too.

And no way I’m doing that.

“Go. And I’m expecting something fancy and expensive as a present when you get back,” I say, my voice sounding cheerful despite the sudden flood of loneliness. “Mack,” I call as she walks away.

She flips around. I can tell by her hopeful smile she thinks I might change my mind.

“Merry Christmas.” Tears sting the back of my throat, and I blink to keep from shedding them.

“Happy Yule, Summer.”

Once she’s out of sight, I trudge across campus to the prince’s tiny mansion. The setting sun colors the frozen surface of the lake rosy pink and tinges the sky tangerine. Sunlight. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like on my skin.

Come to think of it, the weather has been better lately. The prince’s mood has improved, I suppose. I’d kill to know what—or who—is responsible for that shift.

My gaze wanders the rest of the grounds.

If not for the pointy-eared inhabitants and the bitter, numbing cold, this place would be beautiful beyond anything I’ve ever known.

Especially now with the campus decorated for Yule. Large clusters of silver bells hang from evergreen trees, their tinkling a constant song. Streamers waft around totem poles for each court, placed all over the campus by the second years. They also strung our dormitories with strings of colorful orbs. The magical glow lights the dusky sky.

In the distance, candlelight flickers inside the arched windows of Queen Titania’s temple. Shadow students aren’t allowed to participate in any of the temple celebrations until second year, but I’ve heard rumors of Fae and humans alike offering sacrifices during the Winter Solstice.

I glance at the sky above the prince’s house. Pale smoke drifts from the tall stone chimney. He’s home. Surprising, since most of the Fae have already left to join their families for the long holiday weekend.

I can’t tell from my chaos of emotions whether I’m happy or disappointed he’s here.

More like terrified, since I saw Eclipsa leave for her family’s palace in the Lunar Court half an hour ago.

Here, alone. Together.

I want to be near you always, Summer. I tremble as his voice replays inside my head. My lips press together as I remember how he brushed his mouth over mine.

Holding my breath, I enter as noiselessly as possible. Which is impossible with his heightened Fae senses.

Heart racing, I sneak a quick glance up the stairs. He must be in his room, but I can feel his presence as if he’s right next to me. The stupid magical rope between us tugging low and insistent in my belly. Trying to pull me up toward him. To close the distance between us.

At the same time, I have this overwhelming urge to smell him like some weirdo. To hear his snarky voice and see one of his rare smiles and feel the weight of his intense, penetrating gaze on my flesh.

Like that’s not annoying at all. Particularly when I know deep down how irrational this is. I’m supposed to hate him, not want to rip off his clothes and sniff him like a candle at Target.

I pad up the stairs, cursing each creak. When I pass the prince’s room, I hesitate, caught in his orbit. I can feel him on the other side, waiting.

For me to come inside? Screw that. He tried to glamour me, to erase my memories. I might be caught in a wave of undeniable attraction for him, but that’s a betrayal I can’t just forget.

“Summer?”

I startle at his voice. Its velvety smoothness settling deep inside me. A voice shouldn’t possess that power, especially when attached to a face like his.

“Come in,” he orders.

Orders.

Shit. My stubborn side surfaces, and I contemplate stomping down the hall to my room. But of course I don’t do that.

I slip inside but leave the door open. It’s dumb. There’s no one here but Ruby, and odds are high she’s passed out somewhere. But maybe if I pretend Eclipsa is just down the hall blaring her heavy metal pixie music, I won’t do anything stupid.

I pause near his door, my eyes wide as I take in his room. It’s furnished for royalty. A king-sized bed of marble takes up the right side. Ice-blue silk drapes frame the huge windows. A white fur rug, similar to the one in my bedroom but a million times bigger, spreads across the floor.

The Winter Prince lounges on his bed, propped up on pillows. And he isn’t wearing a shirt. Thankfully he is wearing the same dark sweatpants from the night on the roof, his bare feet giving him a strange, almost boyish look that clashes with the savage beauty of his features.

“Hey, you called?” Somehow my voice comes out disinterested. Summer for the win.

“You didn’t go with Mack?” he asks softly.

I shrug, keeping the pain from my face. “I never really liked Christmas anyway.”

His inky brows gather. “You know, for a human, you’re a terrible liar.”

I sigh. “What would you have me say? Of course I love Christmas. There’s pies and presents and hot cocoa, and everyone is nicer than normal. It’s like the most magical time on earth. But none of that matters when I’m not with my family.”

He frowns at the tablet in his lap.

That’s when I notice something white in his pointed ear. “Is that . . . an AirPod?”

He nods. “Don’t tell my father. He’s very much against anything modern. Although I think if he heard the Faerie Haunts play, he might change his mind.” He plucks the AirPod from his ear. “Want to listen?”

I take the device and settle on the side of the bed, making sure not to sit too close to him. Once I saw he wasn’t wearing a shirt, I should have left immediately, but I’m curious to what kind of music the prince likes.

As the ethereal voices fill my ear, all the emotions I’ve been holding back rush to the surface. A spasm clenches my throat, and tears prickle my eyes.

I wrench the AirPod away and toss it back to him.

“You okay?” Beneath his smart-ass tone, I catch a hint of worry.

“No, I . . . it’s just been a long day and I’m tired.” The thought of him seeing me cry fills me with horror. Hiding my face, I flee from the room, making up some excuse neither of us believe.

Only once my door is firmly shut, the covers tucked around me in bed, do I let the tears release. I force my face into my pillow, the tears quickly soaking the soft cotton. I cry so hard I don’t make a sound.

The creak of a door jolts me from my pity party. The prince stands just outside the threshold of my room, and he has the audacity to look concerned. His arms are lifted, his hands clenched into the top of the doorframe so hard I think the wood will break.

He doesn’t enter. He won’t let himself. As if he’s afraid of what will happen when he does.

Anger floods my cheeks in a fiery wave.

“Summer—”