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This time, I’m prepared for the lightning bolt that spears my middle as our eyes meet. But prepared or not, I still gasp beneath my breath as the raw strength of the connection pulses to life.
Valerian stiffens before dragging his focus away. As they both prowl toward us like the badass predators they are, Asher throws me a wink.
“Princess,” dragon boy says by way of greeting as he somehow fits his bulky body onto his mat and falls into a surprisingly graceful pose. He ignores the pink and yellow Hello Kitty mat Eclipsa provided for him, much to Eclipsa’s disappointment.
Valerian, at least, hesitates for a hot second as he spots his SpongeBob SquarePants mat. Wrinkling his nose, he peers at the giant image of Patrick, slides his gaze to Asher’s Hello Kitty print, and says, “Why did he get the adorable cat and I get the weird . . . whatever this is.”
I barely swallow down my chuckle. There’s so much about mortal culture he doesn’t know still.
Asher draws his muscular body into a bakasana pose with an ease that startles me and mutters, “Because I didn’t try to eviscerate her a few nights ago, so I get the cute kitty while you get the pink lumpy creature.”
Frowning, Valerian begins to stretch. I do the same, willing my limbs to stop trembling, my breath to even out. The feet between us feel like inches. The aura from his presence seeping across the space and into my bones.
Sweat slicks my palms as I perform a downward dog pose. Sweet Baby Jesus, if I’d known my butt was going to be in his face, I’d have worn my loose sweatpants instead of my skin-tight black leggings. In my periphery, I catch Eclipsa trying to muffle her devilish grin. I’m guessing this is a form of punishment for the prince after his behavior during the Wild Hunt.
“I thought we were going to discuss why the prince traveled to the Winter Court?” I mumble just as a bead of sweat slides down my forehead and into my eye.
Eclipsa twists into a spider pose, her face a picture of relaxation despite holding a pose that would break me in half. “We are. But no reason we shouldn’t get a session in while we do, right?”
I trade an exasperated look with Asher, who appears just as grumpy as I am right now, despite his flawless form. Ignoring Valerian, who’s stare keeps flicking my way like tiny slivers of sleet peppering my skin, I ask, “How, exactly, did you all learn yoga?”
Everyone looks away. Crap. What did I say wrong?
Valerian glares down at poor Patrick as he growls, “Let’s get this over with.”
His mood shift leaves me feeling dizzy. Pretend your hands and feet are roots, Summer. But Eclipsa’s trick for balance barely touches me, and it takes all my energy not to land on my face.
“The night before school started,” Eclipsa begins, “there was an attack at the old Lunar Court palace.”
“Darklings?” I roll into my Warrior II pose.
Eclipsa shakes her head, her silver ponytail whipping back and forth. “There were darklings used in the attack, but we think they acted under the influence of an Evermore. They . . .” Her gaze skips to Valerian and then back to me. “During the attack, someone stole the Darken’s soulstone.”
I give up on the extended side angle I was trying and sit on my ass. “I’m sorry, the what?”
Valerian’s face is emotionless as he explains. “Every Evermore is given one at birth for their first soulmancy rites. I showed you mine, remember?”
The owl pendant.
“My grandfather’s soulstone is made from black tourmaline, the only gemstone found in nature that can hold a soul as powerful as his.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Can you back up to the part where the soul of the Evermore responsible for nearly destroying our worlds is stored somewhere?” My voice has gone high and breathy. “You store bacon grease and jam, not souls of evil tyrants intent on mass destruction.”
“Remember when I told you all Evermore keep a tiny sliver of their soul in a soulstone they’re given at birth?” Eclipsa asks, her voice unusually patient. “And how that soulstone plays an integral part of the soulmancy process?”
My hand flutters to my own soulstone pendant, a ruby held inside a wolf’s mouth, and I nod.
“As long as your soulstone survives, your soul cannot be destroyed, only transferred, like energy. The second the wearer dies, their soul automatically returns to their soulstone to await transfer to a new body.”
“If a Fae’s not an Evermore, where does their soul go?” I ask, trying to remember her lesson on the complicated matter.
“All Fae spirits are tied to Everwilde,” Eclipsa says. “If a Fae dies without a soulstone, their spirit rejoins the land.”
That definitely rings a bell. I recall Professor Lambert explaining all souls from the lesser Fae not deemed Evermore eventually seep into the land of their ancestors. Their spirits manifest as nature—sometimes in the form of an animal, a tree, even a rock—and contributes to the magic others from their court can draw upon.
There are exceptions. For instance, Mack told me once, if an Evermore runs afoul of the council, they might find their soul imprisoned in the seven Fae hells, a magical Fae prison set in a pocket realm of the Everwilde.
“Why not just send the Darken to the seven Fae hells?”
