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Summer

T he sun is still deep in slumber when I finally decide to stop trying to sleep. My brain is too active, and my body feels too restless. I climb out of bed and quietly creep out of the Morningstar House. The cool early morning air nips at my skin, and I pull the zip of my cropped hoodie up a little. As I push into a run, my frustration bubbles up, and I replay the conversation with the stranger. How I should have replied differently, how I need to find a way to keep him away permanently. By the time I get to the gym, I’m in a foul mood, which turns even more sour when Max’s stupid face is the first thing I see when I step into the establishment.

He smirks when he sees me. “I thought you’d have given up by now.”

“Leave me be, berserker.” I walk straight past him to the punching bag. The first hit sends a shock wave of pain along my forearm, but I do it again. The bag bobs a little from the force, but not enough that I feel like I’ve gotten a good hit. I try to punch it harder, but my strikes seem weak and ineffective.

Max walks over and stands behind the bag, holding it steady. “Come on, let’s fight,” he wheedles.

“Fuck off,” I growl, swinging my leg around to kick the bag. Max grabs my ankle in midair, my foot never meeting the bag.

“Come on, this is embarrassing.”

I snarl and hop in place, trying to free myself while also trying not to fall on my ass.

“I promise I’ll go easy on you,” Max says, finally releasing my ankle. I stumble a little but manage to stay on my feet.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Then you’ll leave me alone?”

He shrugs, that maddening smile tugging on his lips.

I turn on my heel, storming into the sparring room. “Hurry up.”

Max chuckles and follows me in, grabbing a set of boxing gloves from the wall and chucking them at me. I catch them easily and pull them on, wanting to get this over with.

Max grabs another set of gloves off a shelf with his name on it. They’re more worn than the others, obviously well-loved and used. He puts them on the bench at the back of the room before walking over to me, rolling his shoulders.

“Give me your best hit,” he says.

His cockiness makes me grind my teeth, and without hesitating, I slam my gloved fist into his chest. Max doesn’t move. In fact, the only reaction from him is his chest shaking with laughter.

“You can’t be serious,” he says mockingly.

I growl and hit him again, putting more weight into it.

He just continues to chuckle. “Aren’t fae supposed to be strong?”

I recoil, his words slicing into me. This is why I didn’t want to do this. I turn away from him and throw the boxing gloves on the floor before grabbing my stuff and leaving the room. My whole body feels wrong. His question was meant to strike a nerve, to spur me on, but it hit the wrong pressure point. He wanted to incite anger and fire. Instead, he touched on something vulnerable and raw. It is so deeply buried that I didn’t even know it was there.

“Coward!” I hear him call out to me, but I just keep walking. My fight-or-flight response has taken over, and I have chosen flight.

The wind chill makes me shiver, and I up my pace a little, feeling eyes on me again, feeling him there. There’s a soft growl in my ear, and I stop walking.

“What do you want from me?” My voice shakes a little, and I curse his ability always to find me at my lowest point.

His shadowy projection steps in front of me, and I’m once again taken by how large he is. He softly brushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

“So gentle now?” I whisper.

“When it suits me.” I can hear his smirk, and his voice sounds a little louder than before as it brushes past my ears.

“You want to hurt me,” I state.

He circles me, his presence brushing against me and making me shiver. “You think you have me all figured out?”

“I don’t know anything about you,” I say, and even I can hear the hopelessness in my voice. “And you know nothing about me. So, please,” I swallow, “leave me alone. Please.”

His laugh is dangerous, terrifying, and intriguing.

“Please. Please leave me alone,” I beg, and I hate the sound of it. I long to be strong, but I’ve been hunted for years. While this feels completely different, it exhumes feelings and desires I am desperate not to examine.

“Why?” The question is short and simple.

I look up at his form, shadows curling around him, and try to muster up an ounce of the inner strength I used to pride myself on having. I needed it when I was alone, but I am not alone anymore, and it might be making me weak.

“Because I want you to,” I say lamely.

He snickers cruelly. “Do you always get what you want?”

I look away. My eyes burn like they do before those rare, precious tears leak down my cheek, but as usual, none come. “Hardly ever,” I whisper.

“Soon, little fae.”

“Leave me alone. I am with Connor.”

He shrugs. “It won’t matter.”

Confusion furrows my brow. That sense of danger amping up inside me again.

He cups my jaw, dragging his thumb along my bottom lip. “Better run home, little fae. The monsters are still out.”

I back up a step, and I can feel his gaze on me, his head cocked predatorily.

“Run.” The word brushes against my ear and down my spine like a lover’s touch. I take another step back before turning and sprinting toward the Morningstar House. My heart races in my chest, pounding in my ears.

I slip through the front door, panting. I press my back against the solid wood and close my eyes, trying to calm my breathing.

“It happened again.” My eyes fly open at the voice, and I meet Rafe’s gaze. “Didn’t it?”

“What?” I ask wearily, closing my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

Rafe rolls his eyes and heads upstairs to his room. The second I’m back in control of my breathing, I hurry back up to Connor. He’s barely moved. I strip out of my clothes and crawl into bed with him, trying to settle into his warmth.

Less than an hour later, Connor’s alarm goes off, and he kisses me tenderly. I groan softly, trying to deepen the kiss, but he chuckles and gets out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I have early practice this morning, babe. You have another hour. Go back to sleep.” He kisses me again, but I’m already drifting off again.

When Alice comes into the room an hour later, I’m grumpy and ready to kill everyone. Maybe this is the way to prevent my vulnerability, keep me sleepy, horny, and cranky.

“Come on, Sum. I need coffee.”

I grumble under my breath about also being in dire need of coffee and hurriedly get dressed. I grab my bag, push my feet into my heels, and follow Alice downstairs. It’s not until I am halfway through my coffee and we are walking down the corridor to class that I feel alive and start listening to what Alice is saying.

“He came back this morning, and he was furious about something or other. I swear, he’s like in love with her, Summer.”

“You think they fought?” I ask.

Alice shrugs. “Probably, but he also smelled like sex, so who knows?” She pauses, and her nose twitches a little. Her normally animated face has gone stony cold, and I am suddenly looking at the legendary killer. Her gaze is fastened on one of the doors off the long hall, her eyes burning crimson.

“Al?” I squeeze her arm. The pendant pressed against my chest pulses. It’s barely noticeable, and I doubt I would have realized if it weren’t for Alice’s reaction.

“Summer.” She turns to look at me, her red irises glowing. “Get the headmaster. Someone else has been killed.”