I’m half listening. The lecture, for once, is interesting. We’ve moved on from elemental magic to properties of soulmancy.
Eclipsa stands on the stage, preparing to demonstrate the elusive, ancient magic. She looks fierce in dark leathers, her silver hair combed into a lustrous sheet. Curved daggers drip from her hips.
“Should have used your newfound fame to ask for a spot back at the dorm,” Mack says. She knows I’m there for my protection, but nothing more. She’s also figured out by now something changed in the Hemlock Swamp between the prince and me.
He’s seven feet away, keeping his distance like he has since we returned from the Summer Court field trip. But his eyes are always on me. I can feel his heavy gaze whenever I’m not looking. Can feel he keeps track of me in a room.
And that invisible thread between us has become a thick, insistent rope of electricity. Tugging and tugging, even while I sleep. Especially with only walls to separate us.
Since we won the cup, he hasn’t been to visit Inara at night once. It feels like a tiny victory. But I can’t celebrate because I’m overwhelmed with my own emotions. And when I close my door at night and lay down, it takes every single bit of willpower I possess not to go to the prince.
After awakening a few nights ago standing outside his room, where I must have sleepwalked like some horny hooker, I’ve even taken to locking my door.
But that doesn’t stop the dreams. I squirm in my seat as I remember last night’s tawdry vision. So real I’m still not totally sure it didn’t happen. My cheeks inflame, and a spark of warmth opens between my legs.
Holy hell.
The prince goes still, lifts his nose in the air, and inhales. Then he jerks his head to me. Our eyes meet and a wave of fire crashes over me. Can he smell my desire for him?
I remember his taste, the same bittersweet sensation tingling my tongue even now. I remember what he did to me in my dream last night and a wild ache fills me until I think I’ll burst.
I rip my gaze away and try to catch my breath.
“Summer,” Evelyn is calling. She snaps her fingers in front of me. “Earth to Summer. You okay?”
“Yeah . . .” I clear my throat, certain everything I feel is painted over my face.
“I was saying, I wish I had a video of Reina and Inara when they saw you and the prince emerge with the venom.”
Our victory is all the school can talk about. I’ll admit, if it wasn’t for the crazy mix of feelings overwhelming me since we returned, I’d be stoked about the change in my status. Earlier at lunch today, five Seelie shadows joined Evelyn, Mack, and me.
That would have been unheard of before my trick with the chimera.
I force a smile. “It was pretty awesome.”
“Awesome?” Mack scoffs. “They haven’t had anyone actually obtain the venom in over a decade.”
“Girls,” Professor Lambert calls, his stern voice echoing inside the high ceiling of the lecture hall. “I expect total silence during Miss Skywell’s demonstration.”
We all nod, and thank God, the attention of the room quickly shifts back to Eclipsa. Soulmancy is an ancient art, and once forbidden. The little I do know about it so far is fascinating. The Evermore, the elite and powerful Fae from the most prominent families, use soulmancy exclusively to live forever.
“As you may know,” Eclipsa says, her voice carrying from her spot on the stage. “Soulmancy can be very dangerous when done wrong. But when done right . . . it’s an absolute miracle to watch. Notice that when the spell is complete, the new body transforms to look like the old one. That doesn’t always happen, and it requires total focus, but that is the goal. To restore the Evermore to their former self completely.”
Apparently, Eclipsa has already declared her specialty in soulmancy, even though the Evermore students don’t have to declare until the beginning of the third year.
She motions toward the back of the stage at a Fae with donkey ears and a tufted tail. At her invitation, he joins her, carrying a cage with something inside. Soft black fur. Long, floppy ears.
They take the poor bunny out, his body limp and unmoving. Then Eclipsa unwraps a dark green linen napkin, revealing a light brown ball of fluff.
“This is third year Evermore Milken and his familiar, Bramble. Unfortunately, Bramble died three days ago of old