Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,35

warmth pools over my tongue and dribbles out the corner of my mouth. I drag a finger over my lip and it returns bright red. For some idiotic reason I’m surprised at the blood.

“Freak!” someone jeers. “You don’t belong here!”

A tidal wave of pain and humiliation crash through my cocoon of shock, breaking over me in a blistering wave. Tears stab the back of my eyes, trying to bully their way out. My chest heaves as my body works to control the adrenaline flooding my veins. Every throb of my heart brings to light a new pain, a new injury.

I’m frozen. I have no plan.

Summer, you’re going to have to give up pretending they can’t see you and address the thousand gaping faces.

My hair sticks to my bloody fingers as I slowly push it aside. The first face I see is the one that should give me the most comfort.

The disappointment hardening my mother’s features slices through me, more painful than the bruises and swelling ankle. More humiliating than the headmistress’s pitying stare. And when my mother’s gaze grows cold before looking away, stripping any hope of comfort, another wound rips open in my chest—as real as her rejection.

What disappoints her? That my flesh still bleeds and my bones still break? That I ruined her perfectly planned moment? Or is it Inara’s public reminder of my mortality that she can’t abide by? As if, despite the human curve of my ears, they could all forget what I am.

Not mortal. Not Fae. Something different.

A force draws my eyes to the left. Valerian’s face is contorted to reflect my own. As if he’s feeling everything I feel. Enduring every bit of injury and embarrassment. Taking it as his own in an effort to protect me.

All it would take is one look, one word and he would come, damn the consequences. Eclipsa and Asher stand beside him, faces tense as they await my signal for help. Asher has his arms banded around Mack’s waist, gently holding her back from rushing to my aid.

How easy it would be to give in. To accept their help. A dip of my chin and I wouldn’t be alone anymore against the pain and shame.

At the very least, my lip is split, I have a head wound, and a sprained ankle. By the way every inhalation feels like I’m being impaled, my ribs are fractured, possibly broken.

I should ask for help. Any mortal would. But if I do, if I don’t fight through the indignity and my injuries, my chance to lead this year is gone.

In the eyes of the Evermore, weakness is a sin deserving of death.

My bones might be annoyingly breakable, but my spirit is not.

One word and I’ll come to you.

If my mother’s expression is a blade, Valerian’s voice is a salve slowly rolling over my injuries. Mending the deep wounds of rejection and shame. Reminding me that I might be up here alone, but he’s with me every step of the way.

No. I don’t know if he can hear me but a fiery determination flares in his eyes to match mine. Then get up, Summer, and remind them who you are. Mate of the Winter Court Heir, Daughter of the Summer King, future Queen of the Summer and Winter Courts, and the strongest person I know.

Exhaling, I allow myself one last second to feel self pity. Hard as it is, I’m going to have to face down my embarrassment, scale those fucking steps, and then address the campus as if I’m not bleeding and broken.

Gritting against my ankle’s bark of protest, I stretch to my feet, drag in a breath despite the pain, and throw my shoulders back. Cruel whispers and laughter begin anew, stinging like hornets on my already tender flesh, but I focus every ounce of my attention on the seven steps rising before me.

Mount Everest would be easier to scale right now.

Magus’s hooves clop softly as he approaches to help—

I give a ferocious shake of my head before turning my attention to the stairs.

“Summer,” Magus says, those kind eyes pleading with me to listen. “Let me help you.”

“No.”

Ruby lands on my shoulder. “Oh, Kid. I should have been there.”

As if she could have caught me.

“What can I do?” she whispers, tucking strands of hair from my face. “A spell to lessen the pain?”

“No,” I grind out. “Don’t lessen it.”

Ripples distort my vision, my head spinning, and I add concussion to my growing list of injuries. An eternity seems to pass as