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73

Summer

T here is a loud knock on the door, the sound piercing my skull. I try to open my eyes, but they are stuck together. I shift, my muscles grumbling at the movement. There is another loud knock, and I wave my hand in the general direction of the door, not caring at the moment if it is an axe murderer. Alice groans next to me, and I finally manage to pry my eyelids apart. My head pounds, and I try to blink the light away.

“Good morning, babe. Fanged fury.”

I rub my eyes and slowly open them again. Connor’s face is pulled into a bright smile, and the fucker looks fresh as a daisy. I struggle to sit up, and he drops to the floor to sit next to me. He bundles me in his arms and cradles me against his chest.

“I brought coffee,” he says into my hair, and I look at the table. When did he put those there? Fuck, who cares? Gods, it feels like someone is drilling into my head. I reach for my coffee and take a deep drink. The liquid scalds my mouth, but the burn distracts me from the other pain.

“I missed you,” Connor says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Why aren’t you hungover?” I groan, my voice sounding rough and bruised.

Connor laughs softly. “I don’t get hangovers.”

I glare at him through my lashes. “I hate you.”

Alice groans in agreement, still mostly passed out on the floor.

Connor laughs again and nuzzles into my neck. “I get it from my dad. My mom gets terrible ones. The twins and Luke get hangovers, but Rafe and I don’t.”

“I hate you and Rafe,” I grumble. “And the twins cause they’re annoying.”

Connor kisses my neck. “Yeah? What about Luke?”

“No. Not Luke.”

“You know,” Connor begins, pulling back and reaching around behind his back. “I’ve brought you something else.” He produces a brown paper bag full of pastries, and I could weep with gratitude.

“Oh, I fucking love you, Morningstar.” I kiss him deeply and then pull back, selecting a pastry and practically swallowing it whole.

“You two were wild last night,” Connor says, stroking my back.

Alice pulls herself into a sitting position and grabs her coffee cup, her eyes still closed. One of her false eyelashes is stuck to her cheek. I would laugh, but it would probably hurt. I’m also willing to bet I’m in a similar, if not worse, state.

“I heard a new nickname for you two last night. The Morningstar Menaces.”

My lips twitch, and I nuzzle against Connor’s neck. “We are honorary Morningstars now?”

Connor sighs in contentment. “Yup. It’s official.”

“I think the nickname should be for you and your brothers, and it should be the Morningstar Minions,” I say, curling against him.

“Am I your minion, babe?”

I bite his jaw playfully. “You know it.”

Connor moans softly and shifts, his voice husky when he asks, “What are the plans for today?”

“This. Maybe some penetration.”

Connor laughs. “Maybe?”

I brush my lips over his. “Definitely.”

It’s late afternoon when Connor leaves for practice, and I lie down in bed for a nap, letting myself walk the line of consciousness. I’m distantly aware of someone standing in my doorway but recognize Alice’s energy. I open my eyes and pat the covers next to me. Alice pads over on silent feet and sits on the bed.

“You know I love you,” she begins, and I come to full alertness at the seriousness of her tone. “And I’m always on your side.”

I exhale and wrap the sheet around my naked body before I sit up. “Oh no. What’s wrong?” I grab Connor’s jersey and pull it on, so I’m not so exposed.

“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and you need to tell Connor. This isn’t right, Sum.”

I frown in confusion. Tell him about what? A hazy memory of messages I shared with the stranger last night flashes through my mind. But they weren’t that bad. Right? No. Alice didn’t see them. Did she go through my phone?

“About what’s going on.”

My brows draw more.

“With the murders, Summer,” Alice says, her voice sharp.

“Alice…”

“You need to tell him, Summer. You love him, right?”

I nod. “I do, but?—”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Alice asks. “Keeping him in the dark like this?”

“He’s already worried, Al.”

Alice shrugs. “It’s your relationship.” She watches me carefully. “Would you have kept me in the dark about it, too? If I hadn’t been here when Headmaster Emrys came?”

I think for a long moment. “I don’t know, Al. If it would protect you from living in fear, maybe.”

Alice tenses, her eyes flashing. “Seriously? You would have lied about it? To me ?” The way she emphasizes the last word is a punch to the gut. How can such a short word have so much impact?

“Not lied…”

Alice stands, shaking her head. “Omission is also lying.” She looks at me, hurt in her eyes. “You’d have kept that fear all to yourself? You wouldn’t have let me help you?”

“Alice…”

She scoffs. “You keep acting like you’re alone. Like nothing has changed since we came here.”

I climb out of bed. “How?”

Alice throws her hands up in frustration. “Because you don’t think you can rely on me. Or maybe you think I’m going to leave you, or maybe you’re planning to leave me. I don’t know.”

Her words are like daggers, but I can feel the truth in them. We have been here for so short a time, yet she has become the closest friend I have ever had. She and Connor have had a bigger impact on me than anyone in my life ever has, and the thought of being the one who is causing Alice so much hurt is agony.

All of my words are lost. I want to comfort her and apologize, but all I’m doing is what I’ve been doing for three decades. I’ve had to do things to survive so I could make it here, and I just cannot bring myself to apologize for that.

“Alice, I have told you things I’ve never told anyone. It’s got nothing to do with not trusting you or wanting to leave. You have to know that.”

“No?” Alice snaps. “Then what does it have to do with?”

“It’s that I don’t want you and Connor hurting. To get hurt.”

“By refusing to let us help? You’d rather we find out when they finally got to you? You’d rather Connor walk into a classroom and see your body there?”

“That’s not going to happen.” I hear my voice rising and try to stop it, but I am overwhelmed by the emotions surging inside me.

“That’s what happens, Summer!” Alice shouts. “They save their fixations for last. The perfect murder. The perfect corpse, eternally. Do you know what happens when an angel loses the person they love? They die, Summer.” Alice’s voice raises, matching mine. “And you know what happens to me?” Her voice cracks. “I’ll break.” The last words are practically a whisper, a broken confession.

I take a step toward her, but she backs up, her eyes welling with tears. “You say you love us, but it doesn’t feel like it. I don’t think you even know how to love.”

The words slice into me, and I feel my heart fracture with each one. Alice turns like a whirlwind and storms to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I stare into space, her words echoing in my head until I can’t stand it anymore, and I pull on a pair of shorts and my shoes.

I burst from Kelpie Hall, barely feeling the cold as I run through the torrential downpour. The icy drops pound off my skin, but do nothing to alleviate the burn of my thoughts. I’m shit. A shit friend. A shit girlfriend. Not only am I not being honest with Connor, but I also had that weird conversation with the stranger last night. I’ve still not found the courage to read the messages, but I remember the conversation being somewhat adjacent to flirting. It didn’t mean anything, but I still know it came very close to crossing a line.

I run aimlessly until I notice the lights from the gym flickering in the distance. I change course and walk through the door, soaking wet and my hair plastered to my face.

“What happened to you?” Max asks from behind the reception desk.

I clench my fists, heartbreak, frustration, and anger coursing through me. “I want to fight.”

Max stares assessingly at me for a long moment but then nods. “All right,” he says, following me to the sparring room. I feel him watching me as I pull on my gloves.

“I’ll give you the first punch,” Max says, stretching as I get into position.

“Don’t take it easy on me. Hit me.”

Max’s eyes glow green, and he throws a punch, expecting me to dodge it, but I don’t. I want to feel the physical pain. I deserve it. His fist collides with my ribs, and there is a loud, sickening crack.

“Bitch,” Max snarls. “You didn’t even try to dodge.”

“Hit me,” I gasp out, keeping my face expressionless.

“I’m not going to fight you if you’re just going to take the hits.”

The frustration bubbles up, and I shove at his chest. “Fucking hit me.”

“No,” Max snarls.

I slap him hard across the cheek, trying to incite the berserker's rage. The glow of his eyes deepens, and I can feel him struggling to keep control.

“Hit me. Punish me.”

“No.” His voice trembles with strain.

I shove against his chest this time, actually forcing him to take a step back.

“I’m not going to fucking hit you,” he growls.

I throw a punch, leaning into my fae strength and speed. Max just barely dodges it. “Hit.” I throw another punch. “Me.” I follow the word up with a fast kick.

It catches him in the chest, and he winces. “That all you got?”

I hit him again, embracing my powers for the first time ever, desperate to feel something other than the weight of the disappointment from the people I love. I hit him again, this time in the stomach, his abs tightening beneath my fist.

“Pathetic.” He exhales.

I snarl. “Hit me. Fight me. Destroy me!” I say, still swinging for him. Some of my hits land, others he narrowly misses.

“Show me you’re not worthless.”

I lean into my instincts and drop to the floor. Swiping my leg under his, I take him to the mat. Straddle him, I pin him to the floor and start hammering on his chest. My emotions are a knotted mess within me, and I can’t seem to find the end of them.

Max lays quietly beneath me, watching me with his glowing eyes. He keeps his palms pressed flat against the mat on either side of his body, taking the beating. I hit him over and over, and then suddenly, I burst into tears.

My chest shakes from the ferocity of the sobs, tears flowing from my eyes like a river clawing its way to the sea. I gasp for air, but no matter how hard I try, the breaths don’t provide. I hit weakly at his chest once more, and then bury my face in my hands and just cry.

Max carefully sits up beneath me and gently wraps his arms around me. The hug isn’t warm or intimate. It is a grounding tool. He is only providing a place of safety and comfort without an ounce of judgment.

“It’s okay. Let it all go.”

The tears don’t let up. Somehow, his lack of emotion, combined with the safety of his hold, allows me the freedom to let it all go. It's as if the tears I have repressed for the last thirty years have burst from the banks. I sob into his shoulder, and Max hugs me silently. He doesn’t make any jokes, and there are no snide comments. He holds me, allowing me to release whatever emotions I need to.

Eventually, I pull back and wipe my face, the sobs easing to a mere echo.

“Congratulations,” Max says, keeping his arms firmly around me. “You’re now only eighty-five percent hopeless.”

I clear my throat, wiping my face again with the hem of Connor’s still-wet jersey. “Mention this again, and I’ll cut your dick off and put it in a meat grinder.”

Max smirks. “Jokes on you. I’m into that.”

I huff a weary laugh and shift off his lap.

Max stands and offers me his hand. I look up at him, feeling more than a little vulnerable, but then I slide my hand into his and let him pull me to my feet.

Max lifts his shirt, showing an already yellowing bruise on his chest. “You should be proud. You’re one of only a handful of people who have ever managed to bruise me.” He drops his shirt and looks at me. “Ice tonight. You’ll need it after using your powers for more than a couple of minutes.”

I nod. “All right.”

Max pats my shoulder. “Whatever it is, just take comfort in this.” Warily, I look up at him through lashes spiky with tears. “I won’t ask you to tell me.” He smirks.

I turn away from him and leave the gym. The rain is still hammering down, soaking me to the skin again. I look toward the dorm but don’t feel ready to return there. I want to be alone, and the forest calls to me. It’s a bad idea, but I don’t care. I turn and bolt for the trees. I am about to pass the treeline when something grabs my wrist, stopping my headlong flight.

“Summer,” the stranger’s voice brushes against my ears.

I whirl to face him, squinting against the heavy rain. He waves his hand, and suddenly, the rain is beating down against an invisible canopy.

“I heard you,” he says.

“I thought you were gone this weekend,” I accuse, trying to catch my breath.

“I am,” he says, and I can hear the frown in his voice.

“You don’t look gone ,” I demand.

He pauses for a moment before stepping closer to me. “What are you doing?”

“I… I’m not cut out for this.” The truth spills out of me, and I can breathe a little easier once it leaves my lips. “I’m not cut out for having people in my life who care about me.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t get to choose how others feel, little fae.”

I close my eyes, feeling those cursed tears falling again, mixing with the water dripping from my hair. “It was easier when no one gave a fuck about me. It was easier to hide that…” I trail off, the words getting stuck in my throat.

“That you’re not worthy of their love?” he asks.

I open my eyes and look up at him, craning my neck. “That I’m a complete mess and unable to love them as they deserve.”

The stranger brushes a lock of wet hair out of my face. “They don’t love some idealized version of you. They love you as you are.”

“I’m not worth loving,” I say and look away. “I’ve… done something that I…” Once again, the truth scalds my throat, stealing my voice. I was drunk when I told Alice, which helped with the vile taste of my truth. Now, I am completely sober, and the only thing fuelling me is the need to be fully understood for the first time. Alice understands why I did what I did, but I didn’t show her what lives in the abyss. I barely understand that part of me, but I instinctively know the stranger does. I feel safer here than I do anywhere else, which is ridiculous given I have no idea who he is, and he emanates power and danger.

He just waits, the silence heavy around us. “I killed someone,” I say, somehow knowing there will be no judgment from him. He just continues to watch me, waiting for the story. I tell him all about Torin, about our situation, the manipulations, the lies, the abuse. All of it spills from me, and it’s almost easy. It feels so right to tell him about this, to tell him about how I have been hunted for years, that I have been afraid for years, and he simply listens. His hands clench a couple of times throughout the story, but otherwise, he is silent and still.

I feel his eyes boring into me even though I can’t see him. Being watched by him feels nothing like when Torin is hunting me, and I can’t help but admit that there is something oddly familiar about it. Maybe I was born to be hunted by one being or another. Maybe I am destined to be prey.

“It’s never about worth,” he begins, and I’m surprised he doesn’t launch right into a million questions about the truth of my past. “You are your own worst enemy as I am mine. Insidious thoughts in our minds whisper falsehoods hoping to break us.” He doesn’t move. “Do you love them?” he asks.

I nod.

I feel his body tense. “Show them. Hold nothing back.” His form flickers. “I have to go. The rune is breaking.”

“Rune?”

“Yes, I had to use a special rune to project here. It has a time limit.”

“How did you know?” I ask, still looking up at him.

“Know?” he asks, his form flickering again.

“That you were… needed?” Fuck. Is that what this is? Do I need him? I certainly needed this conversation, but him? For some reason, I feel like I can be honest with this stranger, and that is so fucking freeing.

“A sense,” he says, his fingers stroking my cheek tenderly.

He fades away, and the icy rain stings my skin. The phantom warmth of his touch is the only evidence he was here.