Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,40

to be the death of me.

Her busted lip reopens as she grins, showing off her bloody teeth. “Not . . . if I can help it.”

Hellebore laughs, so sure of his triumph, and I have half a mind to pluck his gloating eyes from their sockets and feed them to Phalanx.

That would also be worth a war.

“This is the second time she’s sacrificed her own life to save yours, Winter Prince,” Hellebore purrs, so damned proud of himself. “Once she’s mine—which now will be sooner rather than later—I’m going to have so much fun with her.”

My talons ache at the tips of my fingers, begging to be unsheathed into his neck. The primal need to rip out his throat for disrespecting my mate is a living, breathing thing inside me. I want to unleash the monster and let it feast on his arrogance, his supreme stupidity. I want to feel his blood on my hands and see the fear in his eyes before he dies.

Instead, I carefully transfer Summer to Asher’s arms, gritting my teeth to keep from attacking the poor shifter just for touching her, and watch them disappear into the portal.

I fortify my composure until every trace of emotion is cleared from my expression.

This is the game, and it’s been played in the land of Faerie since the dawn of time.

Killing my enemy when provoked is what beasts do. And while I am part beast, I am also the Darken’s heir. His wrath taught me to be cunning. Years and years of seemingly endless torture and cruelty, playing his twisted games, taught me to strike back when they least expect it.

I am the future King of the Winter Court, the prince who took down the Darken, and when I make my move, it will be executed to perfection.

I lean close to Hellebore, letting a whisper of my power roll over his skin, enjoying the way the tendons in his neck flex, and murmur, “You should have killed me with the poison when you had the chance. You are in over your head, pretty boy, you just don’t know it yet.”

Hellebore flashes a wicked grin. He’s played the game just long enough to think he understands it.

Right now he holds the power—but power is a fickle beast in the Everwilde.

It answers to the most ruthless master.

And there’s no one more ruthless than a Fae protecting his mate.

16

I wake up in my bed with a fuzzy tongue, eyes crusted from sleeping, and the cool, muscled arms of my mate wrapped around my waist.

Dreaming. I’m dreaming.

The faint mumble of voices trickles into my open door from downstairs. I’m on my bed, the shadowy promise of dusk cloaking the balcony.

So . . . not dreaming.

“Hi.” Warm fingers of need unfurl low in my belly, my body humming with excitement at his nearness. I wiggle closer, wanting to feel every inch of him on my skin.

“Careful.” His warning growl rumbles from his chest into my back.

Careful is the last thing I want right now. A deep ache opens inside, molten desire flooding my belly as I press my butt into him.

Another warning snarl. “Stop wriggling.”

I go limp in his arms, a frustrated sigh working up my throat. “How are you here?”

“I just finished your healing. Now that you’re awake I should probably leave.”

Leave? My heart sinks. “What if I’m not fully mended?”

I feel some of his restraint crumble, his hands leaving the safety of my navel and wandering lower. Fiery heat cascades from his fingertips, filling me with desire. He nuzzles my ear, sending ripples of pleasure surging all the way to my toes. “You were fairly broken.”

“Inara.” My chest tightens with anger. “I was this close to giving the best speech of my life.”

“I’ll deal with her.”

“No. I have to fight my own battles. And you’ve already given up so much—”

My mind catches up with reality all at once and I’m falling again. Slamming over and over into jagged bits of memory. The pain and—oh, God . . . the embarrassment. Valerian carrying me. Hellebore and Inara. Valerian giving up his life for me without a second thought.

And then . . .

“Nocturus.” The word shoots from my mouth like a weapon. “Did I . . . did he . . .?”

“Accept?” Beneath his casual tone lurks a darker emotion. “Yes.”

Reality pierces the desire building between us, and he shifts to create space.

I twist in his arms to face him.

The hard wrench of his lips sends alarm coursing through my veins. “He was