night like everyone else. Tomorrow I’ll go to her and we’ll sort it out. Tomorrow I’ll sort everything out.
I hear the music before anything else. Loud, rhythmic, Fae techno music that vibrates the walls of the commons. When we reach the great hall where the dance is set up, a quick flashback of last night hits me. I remember running from this place and all the hateful, angry stares.
And then . . . the prince and I . . .
A surge of prickly heat blooms over my cheeks as I follow the others into the hall. Asher wears a gorgeous ensemble over his massive body; green and gray scales converge over his chest in some type of ceremonial armor, his soft brown hair for once teased out of his green eyes. He has an arm slung around Mack’s shoulders.
I’ve never seen her eyes so sparkly or her smile so big.
Evelyn, on the other hand, sags against Richard. Her gold empire dress is loose around the middle, but I swear I can see the outline of a bump. How far along is she?
The moment the doors swing shut behind us, I’m enveloped in a winter wonderland. Snow—real fricking snow—drizzles from the high ceilings and pools on the floor. The tiny snowflakes catch in our hair and the folds of our dress. But it doesn’t melt.
They’ve been spelled to stay perfect.
The walls, too, have been spelled to look like a snowy forest surrounds us. But there are real trees too, scattered around the enormous room, owls swooping from their branches.
I touch Evelyn’s arm, shocked at how cold she feels. “This is beautiful.”
She regards me quietly with dull, uncomprehending eyes.
Richard looks at me and shrugs. “I’m going to grab us some drinks. That might pep her up.”
I watch her stumble across the dance floor with Richard. Poor Evelyn. All this preparation, all this planning, and she can’t even enjoy it.
The dance floor writhes with Fae and humans. Some of the Fae are half-shifted, and most wear outlandish clothes that I’m sure are the latest fashion. Small white moths with glittering wings flutter above the throng of students. Higher up, sprites dive and twirl in frenetic, choreographed moves.
The sprites’ bodies have been spelled to glow; it’s like watching the stars dance.
Mack and I stand by a crooked tree while we wait for Asher to bring us our drinks. Against my will, my gaze scours the dance floor for a certain prince. Part of me celebrates when I can’t find him. But a much larger part of me mourns.
If anything, after last night, that tether between us has only grown stronger. More insistent. And now that I know his name . . .
Where are you, Valerian? I remember his father, how terrifying and imposing he was, and shiver.
Asher comes back with steel goblets brimming with a metallic silver liquid. Already his lips are stained with the stuff, making him look like he wears lipstick. His eyes drift to Mack, a little smile playing across his face. “Ready to dance?”
She looks at me, torn, but I gesture to the dance floor.
“Go,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”
Minutes pass. I sip the drink, but whatever’s inside makes my head spin and my pulse quicken dangerously fast, so I toss it. The students on the dance floor don’t feel the same way. Their lips and chins are stained silver, the mercury-colored liquid glowing softly beneath the neon lights.
The music grows wilder. The dance floor pulses with charged energy. I see a few of our professors acting as chaperones, but they retreat as the party becomes crazier by the second.
A Dawn Court shadow from my Gaelic studies class runs by, tears melting her mascara down her cheeks. In place of her nose and mouth is a pig’s snout, and her ears and feet have suffered the same fate. A coiled pink tail sticks out from her dress.
Two Summer Court Fae chase after her.
Thirty minutes later, Mack comes running up, her eyes frantic. Asher stands beside her looking bereft, his mouth tugged into a frown. A giant silver heart-shaped stain mars the front of her beautiful dress.
“I have to change. We have pictures in like half an hour!” She dabs at the stain with a stack of napkins, her eyebrows gathered. “Will you be okay? I’ll be back as soon as possible and then you and I will dance. I promise.”
I’m already uncomfortable, and the thought of standing here alone for another thirty minutes sucks. But I want her to look