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“They’re nice,” the prince offers, his eyes squinted in the house’s direction. “For mortals.”
“They’re not nice, but . . . they’re mine.” Thinking about my family leads to a question. “Why aren’t you, you know, off doing stupid Faerie holiday traditions with your family?”
He pulls at a wavy strand of hair that’s fallen over his sharp ear. “My father remarried. For the fifth time. He’s spending the Winter Solstice with her.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, unsure how to weave this new layer into what I know about the prince. “I’m sure that’s tough.”
He chuckles, but it’s a raspy, bitter sound. “When you live as long as we do, you learn that disappointment is a way of life.”
“And how long have you lived, exactly?”
There’s a long pause. “Three-thousand-five-hundred years.”
He grins darkly, obviously enjoying the way my jaw drops. Then he reaches into his shirt and pulls out something—a necklace. The silver emblem is shaped like an owl’s head holding a sapphire in its beak. A soft blue glow emanates from the stone.
“My soulstone,” he says, his fingers reverently stroking the sapphire. “All Evermore get one for their renewal ceremony. It’s sacred.”
My hands twitch to go to the necklace around my neck. The one that’s almost exactly like the prince’s, right down to the delicate silver chain and infinity clasp. The only thing different is his is shaped into an owl and mine is a wolf. If soulstones truly are sacred then why would the half-blood Fae give me one?
I refocus on the prince, only to see he’s watching me with a still, penetrating gaze.
“My glamour didn’t work, did it?” he asks softly.
“How could you tell?” I ask.
His eyes darken. “By the way you stare at me.”
Oh my God. “How, exactly, do I stare at you?”
Hopefully not like I want to jump his bones.
A rakish smile carves his jaw, and it takes all my willpower to force my gaze up to his eyes. But that’s a mistake too, because the intention inside his feral gaze nearly brings me to my knees. “You look at me like you are right this very moment. Like you could give yourself to me completely.”
I scowl, trying to hide the truth in his words. “I don’t know what I’m capable of when I’m with you,” I admit. “Just like I don’t know why you tried to glamour away what happened between us in the Summer Court . . . when I’m beginning to think you enjoyed it too.”
“Of course I did.” His voice is gravelly, close to a growl. “There are so many things you don’t understand. We can’t—” He scrapes a hand through his midnight blue hair. “Everything I do is to keep you safe, princess.”
“Liar,” I accuse. “If that were true you wouldn’t continue breaking my heart.”
“Better a broken heart than dead.”
I release a frustrated sigh. “What does that even mean?” When he doesn’t answer, I throw up my hands. “Fine. More cryptic bullshit. Just tell me this, Winter Prince. What do you feel when you’re with me?”
Such a simple question. I hold his gaze, daring him to look away. Daring him to spout another cryptic answer so I can be done with him.
Instead, he looks me straight in the face and says, “When I’m with you, Summer, I feel like I’m drowning.”
45
“I’m thinking of winter jasmine and primrose for the Winter Formal,” Evelyn says. She somehow managed to grab the student position of event coordinator. Unfortunately for everyone around her, she takes the role very seriously.
Mack yawns. “Evelyn, if you put half as much effort into your grades, your parents wouldn’t spend their fortune paying for all your after-school tutors.”
We’re sitting outside for lunch in the courtyard, enjoying the unseasonably warm day. At the stone picnic table we’re joined by Jace and two Dawn Court shadows, Layla and Richard.
Some of the snow has melted, revealing patches of green grass and the beautiful black and white mosaic of the courtyard. Thin, stringy clouds drift in the sky above.
Jace grins. “Honey, no one cares about the flowers. Just make sure the punch is spiked with Faerie wine and the music is fast enough we can all grind our bodies together and you’ll be fine.”
