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I swallow, the air frosting in front of my lips as I struggle to breathe.
He takes a step closer.
A memory surfaces. Before everything really turned to crap, there was this exotic animal park an hour’s drive from my house. Aunt Zinnia took me when I was thirteen because she knew how much I loved anything with fur. Looking back now I realize how sad it was, but back then, I remember the thrill when the man working there sat me next to this full grown lion.
The lion basically ignored me as I posed for pictures. But there was a moment near the end where the lion looked at me and something passed between us. An understanding. That with minimal effort, he could kill me.
That’s exactly what I’m feeling now as I stare into this Fae’s eyes. Not that he wants to kill me, exactly—but the shared knowledge that he could.
And there’s something else. A familiarity I can’t place.
A spark of remembrance flickers inside my heart. The shock like seeing a loved one you think is dead. I clutch my chest as an invisible tether snaps taut between us. The reaction to his presence visceral and raw. What is happening?
I know you. I know you. I know—
My skin goes clammy. “I . . . I should go.”
His gaze chills my back as I hurry across the rooftop, and it doesn’t stop burning until the door to my room slams shut.
12
Morning comes too soon. Clad in everything I own, I wheeze and lunge my way down a dark, endless stairwell to another door of marble that leads to an outdoor courtyard. Someone knocked this morning to inform me that I was needed for . . . something. I’m still not sure what.
I must have been tired because I slept way past noon. I think. There are no clocks in my room, and the sun is imprisoned behind a layer of dirty winter clouds so deep I’m not even sure it’s there.
As soon as the door opens to the courtyard, cold air slaps me in the face, knocking every bit of sleep from my body along with my soul.
Lord, I hate the cold.
I inhale sharply. The space is big enough to fit two football fields. English primroses and winter jasmine decorate the grounds, crystal waters from countless fountains sparkle, frozen mid-spurt, and hedge mazes crisscross the paver stones, dusted white. Snow drizzles the many statues and forms mounds in the corners.
I barely have time to take in the place before a noise catches my attention.
“Hurry up!” a female orders in a tinkling tone.
I whip left to right, pulse pounding as I search for the voice. A ginormous magenta butterfly swoops at my head.
On instinct, I swipe at the papery, iridescent wings.
“Hey!” the voice screeches. And that’s when I realize the butterfly is not a butterfly, but a miniscule person with abnormally large lungs. She screeches at me again, the sound earsplitting, buzzing around my head so fast I can’t make out her features. oes everyone make this school sound terrifying?
Unfortunately, according to my handy little map, the visitor’s wing is on the other side of the building. It takes me five tries to find the right place. The visitor’s hall is ancient, cobwebs hanging from dusty corners and a faded gold rug lining the dim corridor.
When I get to the last room on the left, I balk at the tiny apartment. There’s a cot, a nightstand, and a circular window barely the size of my head.
I need air. Space. Sunshine. A place to comfortably freak out.
As luck would have it, there’s a stairwell at the end of the hall that leads to the roof. The moment I breathe in fresh air, I feel some of the tension bleed from my body. My boots crunch across the flat gravel roof that looks out over the campus as I make my way to the wrought iron railing.
I run my hand over the sharp finials and cast my gaze over the white world beyond, squinting in the hazy half-dark.
The campus is everything I thought it would be: ethereal, magical, and horrifying.
A wintry forest spreads to my left, curving to fill the entire eastern half. Directly below, a courtyard sits, nearly unoccupied. I’d guess it’s around four in the morning, and the campus seems to be finally winding down.
I’ve read the Fae are nocturnal, but eventually, even they have to sleep.
In the far distance, starlight shimmers over the surface of a large frozen lake. And the cold. Oh, God, the cold is like nothing I’ve ever felt.
