whispering to look my way, their faces pale.
“What?” I turn my body so my back is to the horrible scene, tears stinging my eyes. “Who did this?”
“You did,” Inara purrs as she steps from the crowd.
Grinning, she gives a slow clap, obviously delighted in something I don’t understand. Reina, Bane, and Lyra follow behind her like good little minions, their glib expressions mirroring Inara’s.
“If this is some twisted joke,” Eclipsa says, her voice deceptively soft, “you will not find it nearly as funny in a few seconds.”
Inara’s smile stretches impossibly wider as she turns to me. “Tell Eclipsa how you planned the Selection this year.”
A whisper of panic trills through me.
Did I overlook something? I pulled an all-nighter meticulously researching each part of the race to ensure the environment was safe. Every detail was thoroughly thought out.
The bond jerks, alerting me to Valerian as he fights his way through the crowd. I hate that, once again, he feels the need to come to my aid, even if it puts him in jeopardy.
I’m starting to get the sinking feeling this is something beyond his help.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my shirt. “The race started in the mountains near—”
“No,” Inara says with a voice so sugary it could sweeten tea. “Tell her the items you had us collect.”
Headmistress Lepidonis snaps her wings tight to her back. “These matters will be discussed later. Now is not the time—”
“Now is exactly the time,” Inara counters. “Why don’t you do what my father pays you to do and deal with that mess.” She waves her manicured hand at the dead students. “And we will deal with this mess.”
The headmistress holds Inara’s stare long enough that I think she might actually tell the Ice Princess to fuck off.
But then, surprising exactly no one, she and Professor Balefire turn their backs.
Why does this school even have teachers?
“Go ahead,” Inara presses, sliding closer like we’re best friends. “Tell Eclipsa and everyone else what you had us collect.”
I swallow as something close to dread constricts my chest. I don’t understand Inara’s game. Every plant I chose was a common herb used in first year courses. I made sure none were toxic.
“Bogwort, feverfew, goldenseal.” I tap my fingers on my thigh, adrenaline making my brain fuzzy as I recall the list Kimber gave me. “And moonwraith.”
That was the last item on the list.
A dark cloud passes over Valerian’s face. I look to Eclipsa, but her sudden stillness chills me to the bone.
Slowly, she meets my stare. “Moonwraith?”
“Yes, I thought—” I can’t say Kimber gave me that list because that would out her to the Six. “I know it grows on the far side of the mountains and we use it all the time in the lab. It’s safe for mortals and Fae, I made sure.”
Eclipsa doesn’t quite look me in the eyes as she says, “It’s safe ninety-nine percent of the time. But near a full moon, especially during times of duress, moonwraith can force a lycan to fully shift against their will, which puts them in a crazed state of violence.”
Her stare drifts to the Evermore held at gunpoint. The lycan Evermore.
Crazed state of violence. That would explain the injuries. And yet . . . my mind can’t wrap around such horror. And I hadn’t even thought to check if it was near a full moon.
I crane my neck and stare at the dusky sky until my gaze catches on the faint silvery orb of the moon.
The full moon.
In shock, my mind starts slowly piecing together the gut-wrenching details. Torren’s shadow partner—probably the dark haired girl—must have collected the moonwraith. As soon as she neared Torren, who was already stimulated from the race, he shifted and then . . .
I shut my eyes against the massacre that must have happened afterward. Did the other shadows try to help? Was a part of him fully sentient when he killed them?
Numb, I push through the crowd toward Torren. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Get away from me,” he snarls, his eyes flashing yellow. Curved black talons fully extend from his fingertips, his growl sending the shadow Guardians scuttling back.
A hand gently squeezes my shoulder. As soon as I turn and see Mack, those comforting blue eyes such a contrast from the loathing in the sea of faces, I feel a part of me start to crumble.
No, I won’t cry.
Dark brows furrowed in determination, Mack faces the students. “All the shadows know the risks of attending the academy.”
“Yeah,” Reina says, stepping forward.