The Summer King Bundle 3 Stories - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,3

blocks from the shopping center, and it was quicker just to walk instead of trying to order an Uber.

Shoving my hands into the front pocket of my oversized hoodie, I jogged across the street. The Garden District was beautiful any time of year, but it really amped up its curb appeal during the Christmas season. Lights of all different colors decorated porches and balconies, twisted around wrought iron fences, and twinkled from the massive oaks that lined many of the streets.

I could not believe Tink was at my place. What in the world were Ivy and Ren thinking? Mom didn’t hate Tink, but Mom had also, at one time, suggested to Ivy’s face that Ivy should be put down.

All because Ivy wasn’t exactly a hundred percent human. She was a halfling and there had been this whole prophecy that involved her permanently opening the gates to the Otherworld, allowing the armies of the Winter Court to enter our world, but all of that was over. Thank God.

And Tink was definitely not even one percent human.

Cutting down a side street, I tried not to let my imagination run wild with what could be happening at home. They could be sitting together and watching Harry Potter. Or Tink could’ve brought his boyfriend, who just happened to be Prince Fabian—one of the two Princes of the Summer Court—to the house. I doubted Tink would’ve brought Prince Fabian’s brother with him. At least there was that.

A shudder racked my shoulders as an image of the Prince formed in my head. I’d never seen him when he was under the Queen’s enchantment, masquerading as the Winter Prince. He’d terrorized the city, becoming a living and breathing nightmare who had kidnapped Ivy to fulfill said prophecy.

I’d only seen him after the enchantment was broken, and even then he’d been the most intimidating creature I’d ever laid eyes on. And when he looked at me, I couldn’t help but feel—

“Mom.” My steps drew up short as I spotted her coming down the wide sidewalk, her thin housecoat flapping behind her like wings. “What are you doing out here?”

She stepped under the street lamp, her short blond hair messy from the wind. “Oh, I was just getting… antsy and decided I wanted to go for a walk.”

I hurried to where she stood, taking her hands in mine. Her skin was cold. “Mom, why didn’t you put on your jacket?”

“Honey, it’s not that cold outside.” She laughed, squeezing my hands.

“It’s cold enough for something heavier than this robe you’ve got going on. Let’s head back home.” My stomach twisted with nerves as I looped my arm through hers and turned her back around.

Anxiety and the inability to stay still was usually a sign that we were about to hit a rough couple of days. It came out of nowhere and nothing and everything could trigger it. She would go from being clear minded and sharp as a tack for weeks, months even, and then wham! She would start roaming off and then the nightmares would start. She wouldn’t be able to sleep and things would…they would just spiral.

Worry was like a virus. By the time you felt it, you were already drowning in it. “How long have you been outside?”

“Long enough to walk from the house to here,” she replied, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “And what’s wrong with my robe?”

There were several things wrong with her roaming around the Garden District in a robin’s egg blue robe.

I slowed my pace to match hers as I guided her across the street. “Did you have company while I was gone?”

“Company?”

Maybe Ren and Ivy were wrong about Tink being there. “Did Tink come by?” I asked, starting to get nervous.

She was quiet for a moment and then she chuckled. “Actually, come to think of it, he was watching a movie and then he stepped outside to make a phone call.”

“So, he was still there when you—” The street lamp above us flickered once and then faded out.

All the way down the block, as far as I could see, the lights flickered and then disappeared.

“That’s odd,” Mom commented, a shiver working its way through her. “Brighton?”

“It’s okay,” I said, swallowing hard. “Everything is okay.”

A blast of what felt like arctic air swept down the block, lifting the edges of Mom’s housecoat and stopping both of us in our tracks. The tiny hairs all along the nape of my neck rose as I scanned the empty street, only lit