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“You’re what?” the prince and I say together.
Her lips curve into a grim smile. “I think you’re onto something about the accidents, Summer. And if I’m right, whoever is trying to kill you will keep trying. From now until I deem it safe, you stay here.”
“I don’t understand. Is this . . . another dorm?” My breath comes in ragged spurts.
I should be worrying about someone trying to kill me. If Eclipsa takes it seriously, then there’s a real possibility I’m on to something. But all I can think is how the prince is here, looking like he just fell out of bed. Which means he probably did just fall out of bed.
Which also means he lives here. Sleeps here. Naked—as my memory serves. Not a scrap of clothing on that wonderful body . . .
Blinking, I refocus on reality. Eclipsa is watching me with an amused look. Oh, crap. Have I been staring at the Winter Prince and his abs the entire time?
Yes, Summer—yes, you have.
And he’s glaring at me, his silver-blue eyes narrowed and lips sullen. Wheeling around, he shoulders open the oak door and stalks inside, letting the door slam in my face.
Well, this is going to be fun.
Propping open the door, I turn to Eclipsa. “At least the prince and I finally agree on something. This arrangement blows.”
Behind me, Eclipsa groans, muttering a prayer to Titania.
As my wet boots squeak over the dark wood floor, and I take in the luxuries—marble paneling, expensive couches, crystal vases with imported summer dahlias, and more windows than walls—a new thought emerges.
True, the prince’s on-campus house might be the safest place for me . . . physically.
But the same can’t be said for my heart.
37
The blazing fire in my room barely touches the chill. Throwing the sateen duvet over my head, I squeeze my eyes shut. I’ve been thrashing in the king-sized four poster bed for hours trying to find sleep. But the icy cold seeps through the five layers of covers and into my bones.
I think Eclipsa said there are more covers in the closet downstairs. She stays here, too, a guest of the prince. Gathering the top blanket over my body, I slide to the wood floor. A gasp shoots from my lips as the painful cold meets my feet.
I forgot to close the heavy damask curtains framing the large dormer window, and moonlight trickles into the room, falling over the furniture. A cream loveseat near the foot of the bed. Twin nightstands made of sandalwood. Matching dresser and wardrobe.
The soft white bear rug spread across the large floor feels wonderful on my toes as I cross to the door.
Voices trickle from downstairs. I pause at the top of the landing to listen.
“I had no place else to take her,” Eclipsa is saying. Sliding down the wall, I peek my head just enough to make her out. She’s lounged on one side of an enormous white couch, clad in a cute unicorn onesie and thick rainbow socks. On the other side, spread out like a lion sunning itself, is the prince. He’s shirtless . . . because of course he is.
“Believe me,” Eclipsa continues, “if I thought there was any other place that could keep her safe, I would have taken her there instead. But the wards on this place make it the most protected spot on the Island.”
“I don’t want her here.”
Ouch. Even though I shouldn’t be surprised, his outburst cuts to my core.
The muscles of his abdomen and arms shift and flex as he inhales sharply. “You know what could happen.”
“How far along is it?” she asks softly.
“I feel it every waking second. My dreams are worse. And now—I don’t know how much longer I can hold it off.”
“Can we stop it somehow?”
He shakes his head. “If anyone discovers . . .” He shoves his hand through his ruffled hair, tugging at the ends. “Look, just make sure the moment it’s safe, she’s gone. Okay?”
Hurt twists my belly, and I slink quietly back to my room. He doesn’t want me here. I mean, duh. That was obvious. But him saying it, aloud, drives it home.
