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Panting, I try to retreat, only to feel the rough stone wall scrape my bare back. His eyes travel the length of my dress.
Frick. I pinch the fabric of my skirt, dandelion heads blowing in the faint shafts of lamplight piercing the dimness. “This was you?”
“Fae hells, you’re adorable. Of course it was me.”
He prowls toward me, and I raise my hands. I already know I’m going to fight. I’m not prepared. I thought there would be some sort of warning before he requested my part of the bargain. Time to enact my plan.
“Why now?” I demand.
He flicks up an eyebrow. “Simple. Your Winter Prince is all but ruined. He’s been mired for months in controversy. First stealing his grandfather’s soulstone, then attacking me over a mortal servant. And now that he slighted an ally of his own court for you, only to be publicly humiliated after giving up everything for you.”
“He didn’t steal the soulstone.” You did, you pointy-eared prick. “And that’s not what happened. I didn’t humiliate him.”
He tsks. “Truth doesn’t matter, perception does. But you’re clever. You know he’s doomed. The other courts smell blood in the water. And once I parade you in front of him and all the courts as mine, once I ruin you and then toss you aside, the prize he gave up everything for—his destruction will be ensured. His reign over.”
“Liar,” I hiss. “I don’t care what your powers are, I will never give in to you.”
“I am a liar, but you will submit to me, Summer. You will spend every moment of your existence in my thrall. I’m going to parade you in front of him, forcing him to watch you become what you were always meant to be. A slave.”
“Are you absolutely sure about that?” I feel my face twist into a look of pure hatred. “The moment you slip up, the moment your magic wanes, just for a moment, and I’ll sink a dagger of iron into your heart.”
He laughs, his lips twitching in amusement. “I understand now his obsession with you. He and I both share a taste for poisons, but mortal love is more elusive and deadly than a thousand vials of the toxins I collect. Now, speaking of collecting . . .” He closes the space between us, his eyes burning with excitement. “Where would you like me to touch you?”
I cast a desperate glance toward the party in the distance. Dammit, Ruby. Where are you?
“No one can help you,” he insists cheerfully.
I swallow, my parched throat convulsing. Ruby Ricin, if you’ve ever loved me, get your tiny drunk ass over here.
I turn my cheek as he places his hands flat on either side of the wall. “If you don’t choose, I will for you. I vote for something with meaning. Perhaps your smart mouth, since that’s your most offending part.”
Crap. This is happening. I close my eyes. Knee poised to do as much damage as possible to his nether-regions the moment he touches me.
I hear him shift slightly. My eyes flick open—
“Ruby!” I shout as every limb in my body goes numb with relief.
“The one and only,” she slurs, bowing mid-air before slamming into my shoulder. Nerium follows behind her, dipping in a way that tells me he’s as lit as she is.
“I am going to buy you a year’s worth of skittles, you glorious creature,” I whisper before facing Hellebore. He’s backed up a few inches, obviously displeased that his sadistic party has been crashed. “I’m ready to choose where you may touch me, prick.” Plucking Ruby from my shoulder, I hold her out as offering. “Ruby, how would you like to be enthralled to the Spring Court heir?”
Her eyes light up, and she waggles her eyebrows at Hellebore. “Does this mean I finally get an invitation to your red room of pain?”
The smile on his face falters. As realization takes hold, something dark scuttles just beneath the surface of his arrogant facade. “Is this a joke?”
“No joke. You see, I remembered a clause in Faerie law that specifically states once a sprite has declared allegiance to a master, and that master to their sprite, they technically are regarded as one. I also double-checked that theory with a lawyer I know. It’s ironclad.”
I thought watching Hellebore’s expression as he realizes I’ve outmaneuvered him would be satisfying . . . and it is.
But more than anything, it’s frightening. He goes still. Which is scary in its own right. Like a cat right before it pounces. But the black fury brimming inside his eyes—I know with absolute certainty that he will destroy me for this.
Ruby squirms, misreading his swelling hatred for disgust. “What, do you have something against tiny people?”
His sharp gaze switches from her back to me, and I know I’ve gone too far. He’s going to straight up murder me right here.
“Why wasn’t I invited to this party?”
I glance over Hellebore’s shoulder to the figure behind him. Eclipsa leans against the stairwell, half in shadow. A dagger glitters from her fingers where she rolls it between them, proving that no matter how many shots she had, she’s still capable of tossing that dagger straight into Hellebore’s heart before he can so much as blink.
