Spring (Evermore Academy #2) - Audrey Grey Page 0,136

had never been taught not to take what wasn’t his.”

That’s why he hates Valerian. He blames him for his parents’ death. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I will see the Ice Prince destroyed one way or another. Either by taking what he covets most or watching him die.”

A sinking feeling weighs down my middle. “The antidote.”

“If you refuse to make our betrothal permanent . . .” His gaze drags over my friends, one by one. “Then your co-conspirators won’t get the weekly antidote to slow the Bloodstar poison. They’ll become lifeless statues, empty husks. Dead, their bodies preserved for eternity, souls imprisoned in the Seven Fae Hells. You will never see them again in your mortal life.”

The panic searing my veins begins to ebb as I slowly look over my friends. Taking them in. Remembering how alive they’d been just a few hours ago.

I can picture with perfect, painstaking clarity Valerian’s face last night outside my door, the vulnerability and hope that had transformed him. I can see Asher as he waited by that tree for Mack, adoration in his eyes. I recall Eclipsa as she admitted to being my friend, to caring for me.

If saving them means shackling myself to a monster for eternity, so be it.

Jaw set, I nod. “Give them the antidote. Once I see that they’re alive, I’ll do what you want.”

“Don’t do this,” my mother begs. “Once the betrothal is permanent, you’re his. He owns you. Controls you as your male fiancé.”

“It’s worth it to save them.” My voice comes out a whisper, but it’s strong—frightfully so.

I’ve made up my mind.

I’m giving away my life to save theirs.

“Once the betrothal vow is finalized by magic, it will eat away at any claim the Winter Prince has on you, including your mating bond, until any trace of your soulbond is erased.”

The idea of losing what Valerian and I share nearly makes me refuse. But I know—I know without a doubt that what we have goes beyond magic.

Beyond fate.

Love. Hellebore might be able to sever our mating bond eventually, but he’ll never be able to make me love anyone but Valerian.

My mother must see that I can’t be swayed because she begins to negotiate with Hellebore. “After the betrothal contract is made permanent, my daughter stays with me at my apartment in the mortal world, as is her right before the marriage. And she gets to finish her third year at the academy before the wedding.”

Hellebore contemplates that for a moment before shrugging. “Agreed.”

“And my friends won’t be punished any further for breaking in,” I add quickly.

His eyes narrow, but he nods. “What I have in store for you will be more than enough punishment for the prince.”

I glare at Hellebore. Funneling every bit of rage and hatred into my eyes, my mouth, my voice as I say, “Do it.”

Hellebore gives a signal and three guards leave their places against the wall. The vines lower my friends to the floor, slowly, until they’re laid out in a row next to one another.

As soon as the guards administer the antidote, a drop of silver fluid on each of their tongues, the sickly white of their skin begins to fade. Their lips go from bruised purple to pink, their flesh softens, and their chests begin to heave as air enters their lungs once more.

I nearly stagger with relief, hands flexing and unflexing at my sides.

“They will wake up in a few hours, perfectly fine.” Hellebore makes another flippant gesture and the guards begin to drag them away. “Throw them into the scourge lands with the darklings.”

“You liar!” I try to break free from my guards, fighting with all my strength.

Hellebore’s head falls back as he laughs. “Fae Hells, you’re going to be fun to play with. I’m teasing. How can I witness the prince’s public humiliation if he’s been ravaged by darklings?”

The guards halt, looking confused and wary as they try to determine what they’re supposed to actually do. I can tell it’s a common theme—read my psycho fiancé’s moods and try not to die.

Hellebore waves a hand. “Make sure they end up safely in the Winter territories.” He lifts his brows in exasperation. “Satisfied, little pet?”

Not nearly. Not until your smarmy head is on a pike, you maniac.

I nod, my entire body stiff as I wait for what comes next.

I don’t have long to wait. Hellebore’s eyes glitter with malevolence as he saunters over and says, “Summer Solstice, Princess and surviving heir to the Summer Court Throne,