Page 16

Wynter

“ Y ou know Rose was hitting on you, right?” Summer asks.

“Hitting on me? I feel like I should know what that means.”

“Oh, sweet mercy, Wyn. It just means she was trying to get into your pants.”

I glance down at Kurt’s jeans. “These? Why?”

“It means she wants to fuck you, silly boy.”

I definitely know what that word means, no interpreter required, and hearing it come from my summer girl’s petal-soft lips causes chaos to shudder through me. A riot of want and heat that I work hard to suppress so I can stay in control of my body. Even though I want the exact opposite.

An image of her head thrown back in ecstasy as I bite down on her neck tortures the wolf inside me.

A man shrieks in my face as I pass by, and I catch a glimpse of myself in a wall mirror, my glamour flickering. Sharp ears part my hair, which is undulating like it’s lightning shot, and my eyes flash gold with the magic kindling through my blood .

Holding the male’s gaze, I snarl, and he pales and turns away, likely pissing himself. Yeah, well. That’s what happens when you stare at fae royalty mid-glamour malfunction. I ought to start charging for the excitement.

We thud the drinks on the table in front of our friends. Summer drinks some of hers, then whispers in my ear. “Come with me before you get us kicked out.”

We exit a rear door into an alleyway, and she pushes me against the brick wall. “Snarling at a stranger? This wolf-shifter fantasy of yours is getting out of hand.”

“You still don’t believe me? Let me display my power, and you’ll change your mind.

Earth is my magical element. I can shake walls to the ground with a single thought, manipulate soil, produce gemstones at will.

Spray glittering dirt. Move rocks, boulders.

Shower you in diamonds simply by thinking about it. ”

Summer rakes a hand through her long locks, leaving an unruly dark halo around her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She leans slightly closer, and all I can think about is the slope of her neck and how badly I want to taste the hollow between her collarbones.

Struggling through muddled thoughts, I tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear, then raise my hand above her shoulder and summon magic. Tiny stones fall behind her back. Not my finest work… but all things considered, better than nothing.

“Look!” I urge. “Turn around.”

“No. Enough games. What’s wrong with you? Have you really never drunk alcohol before?”

“The human kind? No. But more than my fair share at fae revels,” I say, stepping close as I brush dark waves from her eyes.

The sight of her exposed throat nearly makes me forget my own name.

I know I should stop touching her. But I can’t.

“Seven hells, you’re the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen. ”

She grips my wrist, heat searing my skin. “Thinking you’re a wolf-shifter is bad enough, but a faery as well? That’s going too far. Shit. We’d better get you home. You’re not fit to be in public right now.”

She’s not wrong. I’m one minute away from shaking a glowing boulder out of my sleeve like a party trick. So much for being on my best behavior, like I promised.

When we return inside, I wait at the table while Summer visits the restroom after instructing me to keep my mouth zipped firmly shut.

Zylah tells a story about the time Ollie stole a dead baby opossum from the basement, and then toured the house on top of a remote cleaning device the humans call an iRobot with the stuffed animal clamped between his jaws and the other four house cats following behind yowling.

I laugh so hard at the picture her story paints that my glamour drops momentarily.

Zylah does a double take and let’s out a small squeak. “There’s something wrong with these cocktails,” she decides after staring at her near-empty glass. “For a second there, Wyn, you looked… ah, different. Kind of like a cool vampire, but super strange.”

Summer returns, saving me from sticking my foot in my mouth with another unacceptable explanation. We quickly say our goodbyes to her friends and begin the walk back to Gravenshade Hall through tree-lined streets .

This late, it’s quiet, and there are hardly any cars around, but I make her switch sides so I’m walking closest to the curb. Protecting her.

Music drifts down from a high, open window of a house, drowning out the clicks and croaks of insects and frogs, as I take smaller, unsteady steps so Summer can keep up with me.

More than once she grabs my arm to stop me veering into the wrought iron fences guarding the mansions’ rambling gardens.

Every touch, each damn breath she takes, tests the vow I made not to tell her who she is to me and claim her as my own.

But so help me, if her fingers graze mine again, I might just lose control.

“What happened to your parents?” I ask, dragging my mind out of the gutter and straight into a different kind of mess. A loaded question. Poorly chosen. But the only subject that might cool the heat burning through my insides.

After all, if she shares her personal secrets, she’ll likely expect me to do the same. And I can’t tell her why I’m really here in the Earth Realm—ultimately, to abduct her, just like the vile Shade Court once did.

A car horn blares in the distance as Summer takes a deep breath. “They were murdered when I was seventeen… apparently right in front of me with a knife from Gravenshade’s kitchen. And I don’t remember anything except making a late-night snack before it happened.”

Questions tumble through the alcohol haze in my mind. “And after that? Were you imprisoned? Did you run away?”

She shoots me a glare. “The detectives suspected me at first, but there wasn’t any evidence to make an arrest.”

“Did anything strange happen to you afterward?”

She shrugs. “Well, I kind of lost a whole year of memories, but other than that, no. Nothing that I remember.”

I know Summer went missing for a year and a day, and I’d wager the blade my father gave me that she was taken by the Wild Hunt that very same night. So either she killed her parents and the action drew the notice of Landolin Ravenseeker and the Hunt, or he was the one who murdered them.

“Do you think I killed them?” she asks as we turn onto her street.

An owl shrieks from the woods behind her home, giving me a moment to compose my answer.

“I’m not sure,” I reply, unable to lie. “But I want to help find who did kill them. Even if it turns out it was you.”

“You will? Why?” She stops walking, and her eyes search mine, like she’s figuring out if I’m mocking her, or if I’m serious.

“Because I have a very… protective nature.”

For a long moment, she stares open-mouthed at me, and I can’t look away, even when I plow into another scrolled garden fence. “I’m very tired,” I mumble, and Summer laughs and tugs me back on the path.

“You should probably eat something before bed,” she says. “It’ll help sober you up.”

“Are you also tired?” I ask. “If so, I can carry you.”

“You’re not in any state to carry anything anywhere.”

“Let me try,” I murmur, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in preparation. “I could definitely carry you all night. Through a war. The apocalypse. I’m very strong.”

She laughs, shaking me off as she keeps moving.

“Are you hungry, too?” I ask.

Summer rubs her stomach. “Yeah, I could easily demolish two or three fried eggs on toast. ”

My eyes linger on the smooth skin at the edges of her black singlet. “How about scrambled eggs? That’s my specialty, unrivaled in any realm.”

Summer’s eyes widen comically. “Your specialty? Now I know you’re definitely lying. Or crazy. You expect me to believe a supposed prince of a mythical magical land knows how to scramble eggs? The servants would do that, no matter the time of day.”

I laugh. “If I demanded anything in the middle of the night, our head cook, Elowen, would spank the freckles from my face. Believe me, she’s tried many times when I stole treats from her larder as a child.”

“And this Elowen taught you how to scramble eggs?”

“No, my Mom did—Lara of Blackbrook. The secret is adding something I’ve heard you call soy sauce when they’re almost cooked.”

“Everyone calls it soy sauce,” she says, opening the front garden gate. “Not just me.”

I open my mouth to say that I meant all humans, not only her, but quickly slam it shut.

No need to tell her how my mother, an addict of the salty sauce, had the necessary crops planted in the gardens and taught the cooks the year-long fermentation process so a bottle of her beloved sauce would always feature on our high table.

“Any decent Italian restaurants nearby?” I ask.

“Plenty. We can go tomorrow if you like.”

My stomach growls at the idea.

There are disadvantages to living in this realm.

I miss my family. My land. The full strength of my magic.

But the advantages? I get to walk beside Summer now.

Watch her move. Hear her speak without enchantment warping her thoughts.

I get her totally unfiltered. Sharp-tongued and quick-witted.

Laughing at her own jokes. Cursing like a hungover ogre on a bender.

And every time she looks at me like I’m not a monster, I come dangerously close to forgetting that I am.

And the next best thing? I get to eat my favorite dish—the one my mother taught the castle cooks to make—creamy Pasta Alfredo. Already, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. To the food. And for another chance to prove I deserve to walk beside this fragile, broken girl.

As we climb the stairs up to Summer’s house, a chill skates down my spine. Someone is watching us, hiding in the shadows.

I glance back and see nothing. Feel nothing. No movement. No trace of magic in the air. But then I see her. A gray-haired figure frowning down at us from one of Gravenshade’s high windows.

Summer’s mother.

Dead and disapproving.