AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Someone kill me.
Embarrassment sizzles across my cheeks. Ugh. I fight the urge to hide my face in my hands. Or worse. Sneak a glance at Hellebore and his sister.
Groaning, Mack ducks low, her face the color of one of Vi’s prize winning tomatoes.
Professor Lambert clicks his tongue. “Ah, I think I understand why you two were laughing.” He sighs, fixing both of us with a stern look. “In my classroom, I expect your full attention. Don’t make me use glamour to get it. Understood?”
Mack and I nod in unison.
“Good.” Relief shoots through me as he shifts his intense focus to Hellebore. Reluctantly, I follow the teacher’s stare.
The Spring Prince is leaned back in his seat, long legs stretched out in front of him, a lazy smirk curving his lips. As if he knows how dang kissable they are, he taps the stylus pencil against his lower lip, ignoring the sudden shift in attention.
Only Hellebore could ignore an entire auditorium full of students laser-focused on him.
He tilts his head to the side as he reads his new biography. Did one side of his lips curl with amusement? Or maybe that’s his murder tell.
Everyone freezes as he chuckles, like his voice alone has the power to paralyze the room. Dropping his stylus onto his desk, he performs a slow clap.
The sound cuts through the auditorium in tandem with my galloping heart. “Whoever wrote this forgot one thing,” he drawls, as if whoever wrote this isn’t right here, twenty feet away. “I was voted most eligible Evermore bachelor by the New York Fae Times. That should be added. It really was a marvelous accomplishment.”
Is that even true? One look around the room at all the females gazing at the Spring Prince like he’s a glazed donut on cheat day tells me, yes.
It’s absolutely true.
“Ah, I see you have a sense of humor,” Professor Lambert jokes, but he wipes his palms nervously on his slacks.
Is that . . . fear on the professor’s face?
The teacher quickly turns off the screen and shuts Mack’s laptop. Yep, he’s definitely afraid of the prince.
“So, Prince Hellebore,” the teacher continues, a tight smile plastered over his face. “How are you finding our academy thus far?”
Hellebore shares an arrogant look with his sister before finally deigning to acknowledge the professor. The way he flicks that bored gaze at him boils my blood. “Thus far, I would say . . . I now understand why Whitehall has beaten Evermore at the Tournament of Cups for the last ten centuries. And counting.”
The professor’s eyebrows gather. “Hmm. A bold assessment after less than a day.”
“Yes, well,” Hellebore tucks a strand of his pale honey hair behind his pointed ear, much to the delight of the closest females, who watch his every move, “if the skill of your Shadows are any indication, I foresee another victory for Whitehall very soon.”
This time, when his gaze drifts my way, there’s no denying it’s on purpose.
Mother. Trucker. I will mess you up. I glare at him until Mack has the sense to pinch my leg, forcing me into reality.
“Summer,” she hisses. “Do you have a death wish?”
Ruby, who’s literally been asleep atop the nest she made inside my backpack, groggily flutters in the air. Her shiny wings are crinkled from napping, and she makes lopsided pirouettes before crash landing on my desk. “What? Who’s dying?”
Mack glares at me. “Summer just murder-eyed the Spring Prince.”
“Murder what?” Ruby mutters before understanding lights up her face. She winks at me. “Oh. I get it.” Wobbling like a drunken hobo, Ruby picks up my pencil and begins to . . . to . . .
“Holy crap, is your sprite humping your pencil?” Mack snorts.
I rip my pencil from Ruby’s dirty little fingers and shove it into the front pocket of my backpack. “Ruby, no! That’s not what I meant and—never mind. Just never do that again.”
A rattling sound draws my attention to my phone vibrating on my desk. Valerian!
I’m so desperate to connect with him that I don’t even check who the text is from until it’s already open.
