Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,72
brother. Did he have any girlfriends or friends for that matter in Whitehall?”
Licking frosting from her finger, she drags her bleary gaze to me. “You’re still talking?”
“Friends? Girlfriends?”
Her answer comes in the form of a derisive snort.
Okay, that was a dumb question. An orc is more likely to have manners than Hellebore is to have friends. “What about . . . what about his shadow?”
She freezes. Her remaining snack slips from her hands to the carpet runner. Something ripples just beneath her inebriated mask—something close to hurt. “Why would you ask something like that?”
The level of anger in her tone surprises me, and before I can say anything else, she flees. I don’t even bother trying to follow. Her Fae speed means I’ll never be able to catch her anyway.
Ruby takes this exact moment to pop her head out of my clutch. “Did I hear the rustle of a Honey Bun wrapper?”
I roll my eyes, but honestly, the sticky treat sounds heavenly right now.
When I enter the rooftop, Mack, Eclipsa, and Asher spy me and rush to my side.
Eclipsa reaches me first. “You okay?”
“Define okay,” I mutter, ignoring the stares from a group of Spring Court females.
Mack nearly knocks me over with her hug. “I literally thought I would never see you again.”
“We never left the building,” I say, squeezing Mack before pulling away. “Valerian was just trying to protect me from Hellebore.”
Lie. A part of me knows it took everything in him not to portal me to the Winter Court territories.
“The prince would never do anything to put you in danger,” Asher mutters in that deep, smoky voice of his.
“But he did put himself at risk, again, didn’t he?”
The look Eclipsa and Asher share sends my heart spiraling into my stomach.
Mack stares at her heels. “They said the Winter Prince kidnapped you.”
I give a bitter laugh. “That’s ironic considering Hellebore is the only one who forced me to do something against my will.”
“Forced?” an amused voice purrs. “If I recall, you were all too eager to shove your tongue down my throat.”
Fire roars to life inside Asher’s moss-green eyes. “Let me handle this asshat for you, Princess.”
“No, this asshat is mine.” I turn to face down said asshat. “You betrayed me.”
“Betrayed?” Hellebore flashes that deceptively charming grin. “What, you thought because I opened a door for you that I was suddenly prince charming?”
“What did you do to the Winter Prince?”
He shrugs. “Do? Nothing. I didn’t have to. After the Ice Prince’s public display of stupidity, Inara threw a tantrum. Her father went to the Winter King, who put the poor mopey prince in a time-out.”
Just like you wanted. “He was protecting me from you, or do you not realize what you did to me was assault?”
Hellebore toys with the buttons at the top of his open shirt. “Protecting? If you think that then you’re a bigger fool than him. He was marking his territory because he’s too stubborn to admit the pissing contest is already over. And please, you assaulted me.”
Anger sizzles over my skin. This douche puts women back a hundred years.
My friends tense as I march up to him, teeth grinding against the hatred spewing from my every pore. “Has Inara figured out yet that you’re playing her? Because I have.”
He blinks. Behind me, my friends close ranks, ready for anything.
“I just don’t know why,” I continue, enjoying the way the muscles in his chest flicker and his jaw tightens. “Yet.”
He taps the side of his face with a manicured finger, the daisy cufflinks decorating his jacket sleeves reflecting moonlight. “Who knew my pet was so clever?”
“I’ll never be your anything,” I hiss.
“My mark on your arm says otherwise.” He goes to tweak my nose.
Without thinking, I bat his hand away and then slap his cheek. Hard. The resounding crack cuts through the air like an explosion, and the partygoers nearby go silent. I just touched him again—but at least this time, it’s worth it.
Eclipsa inhales sharply while Mack gasps.
“Don’t put your hands on me again.” I look him in the eye, daring him to try. To call my bluff. “Ever.”
Hellebore goes completely still. The only thing moving is the blood in his cheekbone. It rises to the surface in the form of my handprint.
Oops.
He lifts his fingers to his face and runs them along the darkening splotch. Slowly his eyes light up. “What was the saying? More flies with honey?”
He and I both know he could use that touch against me again. Make me perform more