I have no idea what the colors mean—if anything at all. I’m pinned to the spot as I watch the sparkly creatures bob and dance over everyone’s heads. The first two matching pairs choose their students quickly.

No surprise, two Autumn Court mates are selected by the orange butterflies, and two Spring Court mates are picked by the purple ones.

So the colors do mean something.

A hand touches my shoulder. I look up to see Eclipsa frowning down at me. “Come with me,” she growls, ignoring the looks she gets from the crowd.

My chest clenches. I didn’t think Eclipsa would try to hide the truth from me too. I glance once more over at the prince, who won’t even look at me. His hands are splayed in front of him. I’ve never seen him so tense.

I slip from my seat, relieved that I don’t have to witness the act. This is a good thing, I tell myself as I follow after Eclipsa, rushing to keep up. The lie almost sticks.

When we get to the door, the attendant takes one look at Eclipsa’s expression and moves. She opens the door so hard it smashes into the wall. I take a step—

“Wait.” Cronus’s voice booms over the banquet.

Somehow, I know he’s talking to me. And that turning around will change everything.

The panic in Eclipsa’s eyes sets me on edge. I’ve never seen her even mildly upset.

That’s when I notice the total silence. Not like before, when the room was quiet but there was still the normal background symphony of tinkling silverware and murmurs and chairs squeaking over the parquet floor.

This is the kind of silence that permeates every cell of your being. The kind you remember for years to come.

Slowly, I turn to face Cronus. My heart is battering against my breastbone like a scared rabbit trying to escape its cage. If only I could let it out. Maybe then the chaos of emotions ravaging my insides would quiet.

Cronus has left the stage and stands a few feet away. His face looks as confused as mine. But there’s also terror in his expression.

“No,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone.

What is happening? My gaze darts around the room. Mack sits to my left at a table with Basil. Her hand is slapped over her mouth. Inara has lurched to her feet, her chair knocked violently back behind her. Her face is flushed with rage, her nostrils flared and chest heaving for each breath.

Her perfect face looks seconds from crumpling, like a puffed up pastry just out of the oven.

Her parents are there, two gorgeous Winter Fae dressed in ivory furs and weighed down in silver jewelry. Their faces are twin expressions of rage, and her father trains his outrage on the Winter King.

Inara’s mother whispers something in her husband’s ear, and then they slowly all turn their rage on me.

If not for the crowd, I’m fairly certain they would murder me where I stand.

But why? And why is everyone staring at me?

No, not at me. Above me.

I force my eyes up, knowing what I will see.

Please no. Please no. Please—

When I spot the gorgeous green butterfly hovering just above my head, my mind goes blank. Literally just stops functioning for a hot second.

Cronus turns his head to face the crones. “There has been a mistake.”

A mistake. Yes, a mistake!

The crones hiss and moan. “The eternal fire never lies,” they chant. “Never. Never. She has been soulbound.”

The headmistress appears to my right. She’s walking toward me, her forehead wrinkled and mouth stern. But my attention slides to the Winter Court section, to the prince’s table . . . and the crystalline butterfly perched on one of the sharp peaks of his icy crown.

“We’re . . . mates?” I whisper.

The prince locks eyes with me. Gone is the angry, dismissive expression. The total apathy. I startle at the emotions there. The vulnerability and pain.

We’re . . . mates. Soulbonded, whatever the frack that is. Suddenly, it all makes sense. Complete, total sense. The way I feel about him. The way my body reacts when he’s around. My insane attraction to him.

I’m not falling in love with him. I’m bonded to him . . . against my will. There’s nothing between us, nothing but some stupid Fae magic that gives me no choice.

And he lied to me about it. He knew.

I feel the attention shift from me to the prince’s table. The Winter King stands. He’s tall, taller than the prince, and every bit of him exudes power. From the way he commands utter silence to the way he wields his gaze like a weapon.

Cronus flinches beneath the king’s stare, and the headmistress’s hand flutters to her face, as if she can hide behind it somehow.

“Tell me, how is this possible?” the king says. The quiet tone of his voice scrapes down every knob of my spine. “How has my son, heir to the Unseelie Courts, been soulbonded to a . . . human?”

His lips curl at the last word, human, like it’s distasteful.

“There must be some rational explanation,” the headmistress whispers. “There has to be,” she repeats, as if saying it twice will make the statement true.

The king’s penetrating gaze slides to me, and suddenly I can’t move, can’t draw enough air into my lungs. My hand goes to my throat, and I can feel my pulse hammering against my palm.

Screw this. I’ve never run from a fight. Never once fled something just because I was overwhelmed. But I’m not just scared. I feel cracked in half. Exposed. My mind drowning in a torrent of conflicting thoughts.

How could this happen? Why didn’t the prince tell me? But more than anything, I feel betrayal deep in my core.

I didn’t choose this. My parents were killed by the Fae. Aunt Vi and Aunt Zinnia’s families all died because of the Fae. How can I face them if I’m mated to the creature that ruined their lives?

How can I face myself?

So I flee. I think Eclipsa calls my name as I dart past her, both shoes tumbling free. I even think she might chase after me. But all these months of running laps and cardio training has finally paid off, and I find myself alone, sprinting barefoot through the snow.

50

“Oberon’s beard,” Mack growls as her cell phone lights up in the semi-darkness. “Can he not take a hint? You don’t want to talk to him right now.”

Ruby covers her ears with her hands. “Tell him to stop enraging that damnable device. It’s torturous.”

We’re all huddled together on the bottom bunk, under multiple layers of covers. After I fled the banquet, the weather dropped like thirty degrees. Now a full-scale blizzard pours from the sky.

Whatever the prince is feeling, it’s not good.

I ignore the phone and concentrate on the book in my lap. As soon as Ruby heard what happened, she disappeared. Ten minutes later, she reappeared with a textbook she swiped from a third year student.

I found what I needed on chapter twenty-seven, The Soulbonded. When a Fae is reborn, they take their powers with them. But sometimes, their connection to another Fae in their previous life is so strong that a magical bond transfers over.

That bond is sacred to the courts because it allows mates to share their powers through the bond. Soulbonded Fae mates usually end up in very important positions in each court because their combined magic is so strong. They’ve even been known to challenge kings.

But there’s only one problem with all of this.

I’m not a Fae.

And I have no magic. Zilch. Not even a smidge. Nor can I use the prince’s magic. I mean, I think I’d notice the ability to freeze people. In fact, that would really come in handy.

A loud smack against the windowpane draws my attention to a tiny form just outside. Eclipsa has been trying to reach me for hours. Her messenger, an obscenely happy sprite with teal wings and a rainbow mohawk, was chased away by Ruby.

Twice.

I feel a sense of pride in that. I might be a magicless human but my sprite is kick-ass.

Ruby lets out a war cry and zips through the air toward the other sprite. When Eclipsa’s sprite sees the light golden orb of magic in Ruby’s palm, she screeches and darts back into the night.

A part of me feels bad about Eclipsa, but I just can’t deal with any of this right now. Nor can I overlook how Eclipsa knew the truth and kept it from me. They both did.

At the thought of the prince, I suck in my lower lip. I’ve been turning snippets of conversation over in my mind for hours, piecing everything together. He’s known we were mates, maybe since the beginning. But he didn’t want me to know.

And he tried keeping me from the ceremony tonight because he didn’t want anyone else to know, either.

A thought occurs. What if his father is angry? The same father who had him whipped for showing any emotion. Could he be in danger?

A new round of nausea surges into my belly, and I groan.

“What did he say?” I whisper, hating myself for asking.

Mack lifts her eyebrows. “Sure you want to know?”

I nod, and she shoves her phone into my hands. I don’t have a phone and neither does the prince, so the prince has been texting Mack’s phone using Asher’s.

I glance at the screen. I’m a bit surprised to see Asher’s name at the top of the chat, already put in from another time. I’ll have to ask Mack about that later.

Asher: The prince wants me to tell you to tell Summer that he’s sorry, and to please meet him outside your dorm.

I grin. There are wards in the dorm that keep the Evermore out.

Me: Tell the prince she said not in a million years.

Asher: He told me to tell her stop being stubborn. And . . . another thing.

Little conversation dots flash at the bottom as he types, taking his sweet time.

Asher: You looked hot tonight in that tiny black dress.

I clap a hand over my mouth. Then I roll my eyes, my thumbs flying over the letters.

Me: Tell him she said screw yourself. Also. Thank you, Dragon Boy. I did look hot. Really freaking hot.

Sweet baby Jesus, Mack’s going to murder me.

Mack leans over trying to read the text. “What’s he saying?”

I pull the phone away and grin just as another text dings.

Asher: Damn right you did. You had better save a dance tomorrow for this dragon boy. Oh, and she can tell him herself. He found a way up, the maniac. Careful, he’s in a mood.