Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,123

amplified powers might be enough to kill Hellebore.”

“Do you understand the risk you’re taking?” Eclipsa asks, her soft voice nearly drowned out by the crashing waves. “Valerian is already condemned to die, but you . . .”

“I do.”

Valerian blinks and then, slowly, despite months of endless torture—including continuous drowning—his busted lip curls into a wolfish grin, his one good eye glittering darkly. “Are you sure?”

I brush my mouth over his, carefully, aware his flesh hasn’t fully healed. “Valerian Sylverfrost, ask me that again, and I’ll blacken your other eye.”

“So violent.” A dark chuckle rumbles his chest as he drags me to him. “The next time you kiss me, Princess, it had better not be so gentle.”

The stars, the waves breaking around us, my friends—they all disappear. I’m lost in him and the promise of what’s to come. Distantly, I hear Asher mutter something snarky, and then the portal is blossoming beneath my fingertips.

The cool water frothing around our ankles recedes. The pale sand becomes the moonlit meadow at the base of his mother’s cabin. The dull roar of the ocean becomes the croak of frogs and the soft chirp of crickets.

Valerian’s hand is cool and strong in mine as he guides me toward the cabin. Halfway there, he grows impatient and slides his hands under my back and legs, lifting me into his arms. The bruises along his jawline are a mere shadow, the sensual curve of his bottom lip nearly healed.

He moves so fast that there’s a mere brush of wind and then we’re up the side of the mountain and standing in front of the door with the winter snowlace berries.

52

The door creaks open beneath Valerian’s hand. My wet hair spills over my shoulder as he carries me inside, kicking the door shut behind him. Despite not being used in countless years, magic has kept the quaint open-concept layout tidy and free of dust. Floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side reveal a stunning view of the island all the way to the sea. A white stone fireplace rises in the center, near a huge platform bed with sheets that look freshly made.

Cool air assails my wet, dripping flesh, and I shiver, despite the heat curling through my body.

“Would you like a fire?” Valerian murmurs, nuzzling my ear and sending more shivers coursing over my flesh.

“I’m sure there are other ways to find warmth,” I tease, reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his jaw, as I hold his stare.

There’s an urgency in my actions, knowing this may be the last time I can touch him. Tease him. Love him.

Turning his face into my hand, he kisses the center of my palm. “There will be plenty of time for that.”

He says a spell and the fireplace crackles to life. Warmth immediately fills the air. Another spell and the floor-to-ceiling windows slide open, allowing the humid summer air to barrel inside. “Better?”

I smile. “Almost.”

After months waiting for this moment, I can’t seem to find the right words. It’s not that I’m suddenly shy. Rather, I’m acutely aware of every second ticking by. I want to savor the sensations of being with him. The feel of his arms, protective and kind, around me. The way he can’t stop watching me. The way his lips keep quirking, as if he finds me adorable.

I almost sigh as he deposits me gently onto the floor, the wood soft against my bare feet.

“What are we doing?” I demand, eyeing the bed once more. Not that I want to rush this, but . . .

Grinning, he takes my hands and guides my head to his shoulder. “Dancing.”

“What?” My voice is a squeak as his hand finds the small of my back, pressing me into him. “There’s no music.”

His cool breath tickles my ear. “Isn’t there? Close your eyes.”

Despite my sudden embarrassment—fueled by the reminder that I absolutely, cannot dance—I obey. Darkness ascends. I concentrate on the feel of my mate as he guides me in slow, graceful circles. The steady thrum of his heartbeat as it aligns with mine. The way our bodies sync until we seem to move as one, dancing to the symphony of the meadow. The crickets and frogs, the whispering wind, the distant rush of leaves, and the faraway hoot of an owl.

I don’t know how long we dance, his fingers entwined in mine. Our bodies interlocked. Desire surging between us until my entire body feels feverish.

And then, when I’m sure I’ll open my eyes to see my flesh consumed by