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“I’ve seen this before,” Ruby says. “The darkling’s magic got into her bloodstream from the cut. We have to get her to the infirmary, now!”
“I’m fine,” I insist, growing woozy as I try to both breathe and talk, which is growing harder for some reason. “I don’t feel a . . . thing.”
Jace limps over to me, frowning. “Should we carry her?”
“No. You’re all injured.” I try to argue more, but my body is shutting down. Cold seeping into my limbs. As soon as I try to take a step, my world careens dangerously.
A growl fills the air. “Crap,” I murmur. “They came back. Just leave me.”
“No one’s leaving you, Princess.” Valerian’s voice drags my eyes open in time to see him scoop me into his arms.
“Oh, hi,” I say, as if I’m not low-key probably dying. “We couldn’t get the weapons, but I kicked one in the face.”
“Stay with me, do you understand, Summer? I order you to keep your eyes open.”
“Always so dang bossy,” I murmur.
And then a tidal wave of darkness crashes over me.
29
My dreams are strange, surreal. I’m watching myself sleep in a small cot, in a hospital, I think. My ashy-blonde hair spills over the white pillow. Red streaks one half of my head where a nasty gash has mostly healed near my temple. I’m still wearing that hideous cat burrito onesie.
Good Lord, who let me make that terrible fashion choice?
One of the sleeves is cut off, revealing my bandaged shoulder. A spot of blood seeps through the white gauze.
People come and go. Mack. The headmistress with her mesmerizing wings that curl as if alive. I even think I see Zinnia at some point standing over my bed, crying, but whoever’s eyes I’m looking through never leaves.
Valerian. I can tell by the emotions raging through him.
Rage. Helplessness. Agony.
A wrenching, searing agony that splits me in two.
At some point, Hellebore shows up. Visceral fury explodes inside Valerian as he slams the Spring Court heir into the hospital wall, hard enough to crack drywall and leave a gaping hole.
Eclipsa comes running from somewhere. After that, a brief period of nothingness follows.
The next thing I know, Valerian is posted at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second floor of his on campus cottage.
Inara paces in front of him, her claws fully extended and face half-shifted with fury. “She’s up there, isn’t she?”
“You need to leave, Inara, before I make you.” I recognize the steel edge of Valerian’s tone. She can’t intimidate him and she knows it.
Tears flash in her crystalline eyes, her lower lip shaking. She tries to touch Valerian. Over and over.
Every time, he gently but firmly holds her back using magic.
That only infuriates her.
“You spineless bastard,” she hisses. “I won’t let you humiliate me like this. You took that mortal slut from the infirmary and are keeping her in your house. Your house! That’s not a fling with your shadow. You’re infatuated with her and everyone knows. Everyone!”
She tries to slap him, but he catches her wrist. Her other arm rears back but he catches that one too. Even though I can’t say a word, I cheer him on.
Take that, Spawn of Satan!
“I hate you,” she seethes, fighting his grip—but only enough to be dramatic. “Without my father’s support, your claim to the throne is weak. You won’t last a month before the other courts pick you apart. Why are you doing this to me? To us? To your future?”
