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“She works all the time, so I really only see her at dinner.”
My mother’s one request. That we eat dinner together every night. She seemed offended at first by my preference for mortal food, but now she has her chef provide both.
Mack quickly shuffles the tabloids together. Before she can stand to throw them away, one of the two brownies employed by my mother appears and jerks the magazines from Mack’s grip, rushing them to a trash can hidden in the corner.
“I will never get used to them just appearing like that,” Mack whispers. “It’s creepy.”
“Same.”
I’m starting to suspect the brownies spy on me for my mother. But at least they’re super helpful spies, and once the tabloids are gone, my tension eases.
The news of my appearance—in a mortal body, no less—caused major waves in the Evermore and mortal community. Waves I’ve mostly been protected from by my mother, who’s had the penthouse under locked guard and the Fae news channels turned off.
No one gets into the penthouse but the lesser Fae servants who are sworn to secrecy and Mack.
My mother sends out for everything so I don’t have to leave the apartment. The few times I made the mistake of venturing into the Fae communities around the city for groceries or coffee or just to get out of the house, the Fae made it impossible to fly under the radar.
They stared. Took pictures. Whispered. A few even touched me for luck.
I once walked through a Fae market and the Seelie vendors fell over themselves to give me gifts—neverapples, healing crystals, rare and expensive tonics. When I returned my mother freaked out because, inadvertently, I’d accepted favors that I now have to repay.
It’s like a strange nightmare I can’t wake up from. One where I gained a mother and new life but lost my old life. My friends. My other family. My freedom.
My mate.
The only silver lining to this whole mess is that Mack’s apartment is two blocks away. I can literally wave to her from my floor-to-ceiling bedroom window. Or, with the right high-powered flashlight, send her signals.
Which was super helpful when I was trying to get her to forgive me for lying to her.
It took a week of shining my high beam into her bedroom window until she finally returned my calls. But it only took two seconds on the phone for both of us to break down in tears.
Five minutes later, she was on this very balcony, giving me a stern talk about never keeping secrets from each other again.
After that—and an entire carton of Half Baked Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, smuggled in by Ruby—all was forgiven.
“Any word from the ILB?” Mack asks softly. She knows now that he’s my mate, and that being away from him is torture for me.
I shake my head, mindlessly running a finger over the Bloodstar that’s now half-bloomed on my upper arm. Now that my engagement to Hellebore has been made permanent, he can control almost every aspect of my life. My mother has been using the firm’s resources and clout to negotiate for certain freedoms I used to take for granted.
Like whom I’m allowed to see, talk to, even wave at.
So far, the Spring asshat has agreed to me being around Mack for two whole hours a day, allowing a visit to my aunts in the Tainted Zone one weekend a month, and letting Ruby come live with me at the Summer Queen’s residence.
He also finally agreed to Eclipsa’s request to tutor me once a week, since I’ll be attending school in the fall as an Evermore, not a mortal shadow.
Who better than the infamous Lunar assassin to school Hellebore’s soon-to-be wife on all things Fae?
But Valerian . . . he’s off limits. I haven’t been able to reach him since everything happened. All I know is that he’s safe.
For now.
As long as he does exactly what his father says.
Forget about me. Get back with Inara. Pretend I don’t exist as Hellebore’s mark slowly eats away at our bond until there’s nothing left between Valerian and me but bitter memories.
“You okay?” Mack asks before her eyes turn dark with fury. “Did Prince Helle-Douche do something? If he did—”
“Nope,” I say, pushing away the pain. I’ve become something of an expert at that over the last two weeks. “Helle-Douche knows if he shows up here, my mother will ‘accidentally’ cut his tiny balls off, so he’s been gloriously absent.” I drag a strand of hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear, desperate to change the subject. “Now, ready for Operation Destroy the Bastard?”
