Spring (Evermore Academy #2) - Audrey Grey Page 0,4
Giving in now, even once, would be like Zinnia opening that bag of barbeque chips.
Once I had one taste of Valerian, I’d lose all reason, all control.
Once I give in, I won’t be able to quit him.
The thought is terrifying.
The walking Fae potato chip smiles at me, his grin practically a weapon. “Hello, Princess. How does it feel to be so . . . young?”
“Technically, I’m your age,” I point out. Thanks to Eclipsa’s lessons over the break, I know as the reincarnated princess from the Summer Court, my soul is actually over hundreds and hundreds of years old.
“Right. How does it feel to be ancient, then?”
That silky, teasing voice reaches inside me, each word that leaves those beautiful lips a spark warming my middle. Smoldering that intense attraction I keep deeply hidden.
Don’t open the bag, Summer. Don’t. Open. The. Beautiful. Sexy. Bag.
“I prefer perfectly aged,” I say, skirting around him to peer out across the New York skyline. “So, did you find the Fae responsible for the attack during the Wild Hunt?”
Whoever used Valerian’s name to bind his power and then set darklings on us is still out there.
In my periphery, I see him shake his head. “Not yet.”
“Eclipsa said you suspect someone in your own court?”
“Perhaps.”
His caginess only piques my curiosity.
“What about Cal?” Just mentioning the Fae changeling’s name makes me shudder. “You couldn’t get anything out of him?”
“Whoever he answers to glamoured him into secrecy. There are ways to break past a glamour that powerful, but most would result in his death, and Cal’s father is a high-ranking general in the Winter Court.” Valerian runs a finger over the sharp tip of his ear. “Back home, our lands are increasingly under attack from the darkling scourge, and we need the general more than ever. Still, if it were up to me and not my father, I would have punished him appropriately.”
I shiver. I know exactly what appropriately means, and it involves the dark side of Fae justice.
Not that Cal wouldn’t deserve to be murdered in the most creative ways imaginable. But . . . still. It’s just another reminder of how different the Fae and the human world is, and all the problems that arise from merging them.
To my left, near a wrought iron set of patio furniture, movement catches my eye. A blur wavers in the air. Once my eyes pierce the glamour, my lips stretch into a grin.
“Hey, Asher!” I call.
The dragon shifter blinks at me with those huge moss-green eyes, his black-tipped gray wings pulled tight to his back. Sunlight swims along the leathery wings, illuminating delicate green markings. “Hey, Summer.”
“Mack’s inside, if you . . . you know, maybe want to say hi?”
He frowns, tugging at his shoulder-length brown hair, pulled back into a man-bun only Asher could pull off. “I’m on duty.”
Right. Now that someone knows Valerian’s name, it’s only a matter of time before they strike again.
I glance around, searching the premises for the other guards Eclipsa assigned to Valerian when she’s not available. But she chose well, and not a single one gives up their position.
Unable to keep finding things to distract myself from Valerian, I turn to my mate. His eyes fall to my lips, but he tears his gaze away, hands me a small, thin present wrapped in ice-blue wrapping paper and ivory ribbon, and says, “Eclipsa said mortals celebrate their birth dates with presents, so . . . this is for you.”
The moment I strip the last shred of paper from the gift and spy the delicate silver frame, heavy and cold against my fingers, I know who’s inside.
My stomach somersaults as I stare at the three figures. “Valerian, where did you get this?”
“I visited the Summer realm a few weeks ago.” He shrugs, the cavalier gesture shifting his black tee to reveal the pale skin of his upper chest. “The wards around the Summer Court palace have grown weak. I was able to break into your old room and steal the miniature portrait. Thought you might want it.”
“You could have started a war.” Even during the best of times, the Summer Court and the Winter Court are one incident away from full-blown battle.
“Being able to give you a piece of your stolen history is totally worth the risk.”
I turn the picture over in my hand, my mind reeling.
Summer, meet your parents and dead self.
My little pep talk falls flat. The people inside—my real parents—feel like strangers. My mother, the Fae Summer Queen, wears a sumptuous green