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His eyes go wide with excitement.

After that, I know I can’t get away. The moment he draws near, my foot shoots out, landing against his thigh. He doesn’t even flinch. With lightning speed, he hooks a hand under my knee, trapping my leg under his armpit.

For a breath, he holds me there. Hopping on one leg. Captive to whatever he desires. No amount of yanking or cursing can break me free.

He wants me to know I can’t stop whatever comes next. My breaths come in rapid spurts; my head spins with excitement and anticipation.

Then he sweeps my other leg and gently lowers me to the mat.

“Princess,” he says, his gaze practically a weapon as it scrapes up and down my captive body. He braces his hands on either side of my head. “Say the word and I’ll leave right now. We can both walk away from this.”

He says this almost pleadingly, like we’re poised over a dangerously high precipice, about to jump to our deaths. If that’s true, I’m already in freefall.

I shake my head. “No.”

My legs wrap around his waist. At this point, my body has a mind of its own, and it wants to feel him. Every part of him.

I try to use my thighs to pull him closer, but he hesitates. Lowering to his elbows, he stares down at me. Sweat darkens his hair at the temples and brings out the waviness. His pupils are huge, his irises slivers of bluish-silver. His lips part suggestively.

My body is freaking out. His presence so close. His sweat everywhere.

He leans closer until I can feel the cool energy coming off his bare flesh, the sweat slicking his chest wetting my clothes.

My body rejoices, a sensation of everything righting itself descending. But I also remember Mack’s words about not ever falling for a Fae. And that’s exactly what I’m doing. Not just falling for a Fae, but tumbling headfirst for the most powerful Fae in the academy.

I reach up and touch one of his ears, stroking the inside. I have no idea how I knew to do that, but he moans, hardening between my legs.

Holy crap. Evelyn once made a joke about Fae males being larger than human males—not that I know the difference—but damn.

One more flick of my finger and his full weight presses into me. His lips are just as soft as I remember as they graze mine. Gently, slowly, his tongue slides against my lips and into my mouth. His kiss becomes more desperate.

I moan, three months’ worth of pent-up need coming to a head.

I lose myself in him. His scent. His power. The exotic coldness of his flesh, the way the sweat around us freezes into frost with his excitement. Snow forms from the rafters above and dusts the mats. Our breath curls around us in ivory wisps.

Loud voices stir the night. They come from somewhere outside, but it’s enough to break the spell. The prince stiffens and then rolls off me, and I’m thrust back into this startling new reality. I kissed the Winter Prince. The Fae responsible for all my misery.

And I liked it.

And I’m fairly certain he liked it too.

He brushes a finger over my lips. Then he helps me to my feet. As I stand, his eyes drag over my body once more.

I think he might say he made a mistake, and my heart is prepared to be hurt. But he just stares at me for longer than any man ever would.

Then he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Anything. I would say anything at this point.

“Are you going to the dance?”

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but not that. “No.”

“No? I thought all mortal girls liked music and dancing?”

“I . . . I don’t have a dress.” Or a date.

Not true, exactly. Mack promised we could go together. She offered to lend me one of her old bubble gum pink mermaid prom gowns from high school. I still haven’t committed one way or the other.

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