room. He opened the door with a bit of hesitation, but once he saw her face, I watched him relax. I didn’t feel relief until he’d shut the door behind him.
Ethan’s face was stony. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone tonight.”
“Mare was attacked, not me,” I told him. “Andrik’s been targeting her for months.”
“Yes, but now the White Rose is targeting you,” Ethan replied. “I know she’s in this school somewhere, and until she’s taken care of, you’re not safe.”
I knew what taken care of meant. I also knew Ethan was serious.
But I was serious about keeping him away from Gabby. And I was wondering how much longer this game could go on before it blew up in both our faces.
I wished I knew how to minimize the collateral damage.
Chapter Seventeen
Ethan
How could I have assumed Emma was the White Rose? I was so foolish. Now a deranged woman was running around campus, and she was targeting my mate.
Not for long, though. I’d find the White Rose, and make her pay for what she did to Emma. There’d be no chance of escape this time. I was hunting her down.
Rain was coming down hard over the university that evening, pattering relentlessly against the roof. Emma, Kiara, Alexei and I were in one of the private study rooms on campus. All that could be heard was the turning of yellow pages as Kiara read by candlelight. The scratching of Emma’s quill echoed against the walls as she worked on translating the grimoire. Alexei slept on a large red velvet pillow near Kiara’s feet as a griffin, his golden feathers rising up and down.
None of us felt comfortable returning to the library after what had happened with Delmare. It would seem there were all kinds of monsters roaming around the school, waiting to kill us all.
Emma stopped writing. Her furrowed brow caused Kiara to look up from her book. “What?” she asked.
Emma handed a piece of parchment to Kiara. “This spell... it seems twisted and wrong.”
Kiara read it. She took a long time, her eyes scanning the paper before she glanced at Alexei once, then gave it to me. “It is different, isn’t it?”
I read the spell, though it was more like a curse. “Take a crystal, and by light of the moon cut your finger and press the blood onto the stone. As you do so, infuse the stone with your malice, your hatred, and recite the spell, With this intention, I cause thy to feel my suffering. With this sacrifice, I cause thy to feel my pain. Gift the stone to your enemy— wait for the effects.”
Kiara played with the crystal around her neck as I read. Alexei slept on. Emma took the parchment back and said, “I know we aren’t sure what it does specifically, but whatever it is sounds awful.”
“The spell is probably based on the caster’s suffering,” Kiara murmured. “It’s effect is harnessed through how much anger the user puts into the stone.”
“The grimoire’s only been helpful,” Emma stated. “I can’t believe something like this is in it.”
“Well, it is a book of Unseelie magic,” I said. “It shouldn’t shock you there are curses within it.”
Emma shivered. “I think that’s enough translating for one night.” She closed the grimoire and folded up the hex, tucking it between the pages. She rubbed her eyes and let out a yawn.
“It’s late, Em. We should be getting off to bed,” I said, feeling worn myself.
“It’s not that late,” Emma protested, giving another yawn.
“Only one in the morning,” Kiara said fairly.
“What? No.” Emma checked her watch and groaned. “It is one in the morning. And I have practice tomorrow. Fuck.”
“We’d better get off to sleep. Coming, Kiara?” I asked.
She shook her head and stroked Alexei’s feathers. “I’ll be here a little longer.”
“All right. Good night, then.”
Emma and I walked to the dormitory, hand in hand. Though I was more or less pulling her along behind me.
“I don’t want to go to bed. I’m not tired,” Emma said.
“Yes, you are.” I gave her a knowing smile. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“So? That’s nothing new. I can be exhausted, but that doesn’t mean I’ll get any rest.” She gave another yawn. “I can never sleep, even on the days that I turn in early. My body just doesn’t let me.”
“What do you mean?” My tone was sorrowful.
“I don’t know. I’ll lie there for hours in pain, wishing I could pass out just to get a few hours of reprieve. Most