The fourth year, a tall boy with thin lips, big ears, and sandy blond hair, tugs at his shirt. “He said you’d say that, and to tell you that you owe him.”
“Well tell him I don’t want to distract him from his battle tonight.”
Beads of sweat trickle down his temples, his eyes tight with fear. I almost feel sorry for the boy, but not enough to give in.
“He said you’d say that too, and to tell you if you want the book, you’ll meet him.”
My breath hitches. The book? As in the book I nearly died for?
Finally convinced, I ignore the stares of literally everyone as I throw my coat over my pajamas. I insist Mack and Ruby go too, and the fourth year nods, looking so relieved that he’d probably agree to anything at this point.
Technically, I don’t need Ruby or Mack to face the prince. But I’ve learned the hard way that Ruby can’t be left alone. I’d likely come back to her having started a brawl with the Unseelie sprites or stolen something.
And Mack . . . Mack is coming because a part of me no longer trusts myself around the prince.
Not when he saved me. Not when the parts of my skin where he touched still tingles. When my cheek still remembers the sensation of his flesh, cold and hard, as I rested my head against his chest.
There was so much pain and relief flooding my body that I hadn’t thought about it then, but ever since, that’s all I can think about.
Him. How I want to hate him—how I should hate him—but I can’t.
Not after last night.
Not after discovering how being in his arms felt like the rightest thing in the world.
Somewhere deep down I know that my hatred is the only wall of defense I have against the magnetic pull he exudes. Once that defense is gone, I’ll be powerless.
And that scares me.
29
Outside, two shadow guardians stand by the heavy metal doors. Weapons drip from their black and red uniforms, the sight reminding me of the dangers outside these doors. At first they try to stop us, but the fourth year whispers into their ears and they let us pass.
The bonfire must be twice the size of last night because it lights up the entire campus, an angry sun surrounded by dark shapes. A primal energy swells the frigid, smoky air, and strange, animalistic noises carry with the wind, sending Ruby diving into the breast pocket of my coat.
Beneath my layers of clothing, the hair on my arms stands erect.
The fourth year shadow leads us across the snow into a side courtyard walled in on three sides by a stone fence. A giant oak tree stands sentinel in the middle, its long, regal branches weighted with snow.
As soon as we step foot in the courtyard, the fourth year retreats.
A sudden howling wind draws my eye to a raging wall of snow. It circles around the courtyard like a bubble, faster and faster and faster until we’re trapped.
“What’s happening?” Mack whispers, resituating her scarlet wool scarf around her neck.
“He wants privacy,” I mutter. “Showoff.”
“Who?” Her crystallized breath plumes across the courtyard.
I’d completely forgotten I haven’t told them who we’re meeting. Before I can answer, the Winter Prince emerges from a doorway on the other side, his owl perched on his shoulder. Asher trails beside him, arms crossed over his massive chest and a miserable look on his face. As a shifter, he might be Unseelie, but I learned in class that dragon shifters are cold-blooded by nature and need warmth.
Basically, the opposite of this place.
The moment Asher locks eyes on Mack, the big guy’s face lights up.
My gaze slides to Mack beside me. A blush stains her tanned cheeks, a timid smile playing across her lips as she returns his stare.
The prince and I, on the other hand, glare at each other like opposing generals before a battle.
“Do you have my book?” I say in lieu of greeting, jutting out my hand palm up. I ignore the tiny jump my heart gave at the sight of him. At his stupid messy blue-black hair and perpetual smirk. The moonlight glimmers inside his irises, making them look more silver than blue.
He reaches inside his sable waistcoat and retrieves the leather-bound tome. “You mean, this old thing?”
My eyes narrow. I sense a trick. “Wait, why aren’t you and Asher, you know . . .”
“Overcome by our primal urges?” He arches an infuriatingly sexy