AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shit.
His gaze falls to my mouth, which has parted slightly. I become acutely aware of how near he is to me. Close enough that I could reach out and run my fingertips over the jagged cliffs of his cheeks.
Close enough that I could kiss him—if he wasn’t a Fae and I wasn’t a human and we didn’t despise one another.
He jerks his focus from my lips, almost violently, and schools his face into a disdainful scowl. “You should go inside, Princess. Your body reeks of the pheromone drink.”
His cruel nickname drives the dagger of his loathing even deeper. You don’t call someone who shops at the Salvation Army princess unless you want to wound them deeply.
I’m about to tell him as much when Mack, Evelyn, and Callum come rushing from the front doors, dragging my attention to them.
Evelyn sees me first and shouts, “She’s alive . . . and alone.”
Alone? I glance back, but the prince is gone.
Mack throws her arms around me. “Where did you go? We thought someone took you.”
“I’m . . . someone had the decency to bring me home,” I half explain.
“Someone?” Mack says, reluctantly releasing me. “Who?”
“Just some Fae,” I insist. “Thankfully, he’s immune to my druggy charms.” I can’t help but wonder how much you have to despise someone to not react to a massive dose of pheromones.
“We should go,” Callum insists. He’s posted in front of me, arms crossed over his massive chest, staring down imaginary threats. “Until the drug leaves your system, you’re not safe.”
Callum decides to spend the night outside our room, in case any Fae follow my intoxicating scent here, while Mack gives me a talk about not drinking anything without first knowing what it does.
Then I take the world’s hottest shower, scrubbing hard to try to rinse any residual pheromones from my body, and hop into bed.
Mack gave me a pajama set to wear, but the silk shorts barely cover my butt, the cami ending above my navel. Still, it’s better than sleeping naked, and I sink into my sheets, grateful for a soft bed and roommate who’s legit awesome.
Things could have turned out much worse.
Sleep drags my eyelids down, but my mind keeps going over tonight.
Why can’t I just hate the prince? I don’t even have a thing for dickhead bad boys.
“Mack,” I whisper.
The top bunk shakes and then she’s peering down at me with a tired, grumpy expression. “What?”
“Have you ever liked someone who was bad for you?”
Silence. When it stretches out into minutes, I assume she must have fallen asleep. But then the bed frame above wiggles and she says, “Sure. I once thought I liked my dad’s personal trainer. He had full sleeve tats, rode a Ducati, and smoked weed.”
“How’d you make it go away?”
She yawns. “I slept with him and realized his bad boy persona compensated for a dull personality and tiny dick.”
I snort. I’m fairly certain that’s not the case with the prince. “It doesn’t matter, he hates me anyway.” I stretch under the covers, yawning, “Good . . . night.”
I fall into a restless sleep, and everywhere I turn, every new dream I spin, the Winter Prince is there. Haunting me with his cruel smile.
35
My first day back at school as the prince’s shadow, my stomach is in knots. I spent all morning agonizing over what it will be like today. The hundreds of ways the prince will torment and tease me. Mack left early to finish an assignment, and I stayed an extra hour after my lesson with Eclipsa at the gym doing squats, deadlifts, and timed sprints.
At first I stayed because I didn’t want to go back to an empty dorm before school. Then, as my physical exhaustion took over, I stayed because when I’m working out so hard I’m close to puking, nothing else matters.
