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“She was only helping because I’m your friend, and she straight up admitted she was trying to buy your forgiveness for something, but you should have seen my dads, especially Sebastian. She’s a celebrity in their circle.” She rests her arms behind her head. “When he took a selfie with her, I thought I was going to die from embarrassment.”
“You’re wrong. Eclipsa may not know it yet, but she likes you. Just don’t expect her to openly admit that.”
I join Mack on the lawn. Just like the estate and the palace, the Spring Court sky is overwhelming in its beauty. I stare at the diamond-encrusted canvas above, trying to find the words to tell Mack how I feel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think how hard that would be on you if I’m not here fourth year.”
She groans. “Stop. We’ve already established I was the dickhead. Besides, I guess none of that matters now.”
“You stop. You belong at the academy. You’re Mackenzie Fucking Fairchild. We’re going to figure something out.”
“And you’re Summer Fucking Solstice, my ride-or-die. If I ever forget that again, I give you permission to punch me. But like, fifty-percent power—I’ve seen your right hook. And in the stomach or something. If I have to get a nose job, I’ll never be able to hold that over Reina again.” Mack props up on her elbows, her face twisting as if she tastes something sour. “Did you know she signed up for the gauntlet after you did? She was in my group earlier today.”
“Ugh. Which means she applied for the internship.”
Mack pops to her feet, and I reluctantly follow, mentally preparing myself for a night on my moldy mattress of hay. People are already drifting back inside. The gauntlet starts at dawn tomorrow. That’s like the middle of the night for the Fae, but I assume by the raging party happening on the other side of the palace, most will have never gone to bed in the first place.
I’m dusting off my leggings when a flash of movement draws my eye. A giant white owl swoops near our heads before landing on the lowest branch of a cherry tree.
Phalanx! The haughty creature hoots twice, looks toward the entrance of a hedge maze, and then flies off.
“I think someone wants to give their shadow a pep talk,” Mack says, her wistful tone making it clear she would love a pep talk from a certain dragon shifter herself.
“That makes two of us,” a gravelly male voice says.
Mack’s smile stretches wide as she spots Asher beside a crooked oak tree. Even layered in shadow, the massive shifter is unmistakable.
When he steps into the delicate moonlight, smiling softly back at her . . . it’s like they forget I’m even here. Both of them transfixed on the other and doing weird, embarrassing things with their faces.
Whoa. When did that happen?
They barely acknowledge me when I say goodbye, caught in their own bubble of whatever the frick transpired this past week.
They’ve always been flirty with each other, but this skipped harmless flirting and went straight to reciting sonnets about each other’s eyes and crap.
I make a mental note to ask Valerian about Asher’s intentions as I duck beneath the entrance into the hedge maze. The starlight softens the shadows, enough that I can make out the wisteria and jasmine clinging to the green walls. Fireflies dance above me. As I watch, brownies and sprites collect the fireflies in glass jars, their glowing bodies thudding softly against the glass.
I can only hope these aren’t the same fireflies I just released. A few alight on my arm, and I watch, transfixed, as they take to the air and begin to form . . .
Letters?
ILB.
Someone’s feeling clever. Laughing, I follow the glowing creatures through the maze, thankful for their guidance. When I’m completely lost, with no hope of ever finding my way out, I feel that exquisite little tug deep inside my core.
The one that screams Valerian is near.
A low chuckle drifts from the shadows ahead. The center of the maze is a statue of two naked lovers. They’re locked in an embrace steamy enough that heat pricks my cheeks.
Dragging my focus from the scene, I make out the Winter Prince just beyond. The fireflies swirl around him, their ethereal light matching the faint ring of gold circling his silver eyes.
“ILB?” I tease, alarmed at how nervous my voice is.
“Illustrious lover boy?” he guesses. “No, I’m definitely not a boy. Ignominious little bastard?” His eyes twinkle. “We both know little is an unfitting description of me.” Holy hell, is he trying to make me blush? “Bastard, however, is probably correct.”
My lips twitch at the corners. “Impossibly likeable bastard?”
My breath hitches as he closes the distance between us until I can feel the coolness emanating from his body, as if a winter storm rages inside him. He reaches for me, and I go completely still as his hand cups the side of my face, tilting my head to look up at him.
“I’m a bastard, Summer. I’m selfish. I’m haughty. Vain. I can be thoughtlessly cruel when it suits me, and I don’t think twice about bartering for the things I want.” He drags his thumb along the curve of my cheek. “I thought I could somehow buy you with grand gestures, like a piece of jewelry I coveted.”
