“So the Winter Prince has a name, after all,” Cal continues amiably. “Valerian Sylverfrost. Catchy.”
My blood runs cold. “Who have you told?”
“Do you know how many Fae want the prince dead? Man, that guy really isn’t popular.” He shrugs and then glances down at his gold watch. “He’ll be dead in about, say, four hours, give or take. Isn’t that what you want, Summer?”
Oh, God.
“You probably don’t remember, but after I took your necklace and glamoured you last night into giving me your precious prince’s name, I had you tell me all about your experience at the academy. Wow, that was entertaining. And that ending . . .” He laughs. “The irony is that it wasn’t even the prince who broke your heart.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oberon’s beard, you’re adorable. You were so over your head at that school.” He closes the distance between us. I try to back away but he says, “No, stay.”
And I can’t resist him.
“Now, where was I? Oh, right. Bane Winterspell. He’s a nasty character. Did you know he can make his face look like anyone’s?”
My brain whirs as I try to make sense of his words. Where did Bane come from? He wasn’t even there that night . . .
He wasn’t even there that night. But if Inara was finally going to get her revenge on me, Bane would have been front and center with a bowl of popcorn.
Unless he was there.
I play Cal’s words over in my mind. He can make his face look like anyone’s.
Even a prince’s.
“You see the truth now, don’t you? Clever girl.” He reaches up, pushes a strand of hair from my forehead. “The prince wasn’t even at the academy that night. He didn’t betray you, after all. But you betrayed him. You gave up his name as easily as you let him kiss you.”
“Screw you,” I growl.
“Oh, I’ve always loved your fight. After the prince is dead, I’m going to visit you every night. We’ll have so much fun, Summer.”
“How?” I say, trying to drag out any details possible. “How will they kill him? Even with his name . . . he’s too powerful.”
His nostrils flare in anger. “Powerful? Let’s see how powerful he is when he’s faced with an army of darklings and his magic is bound. Did you know, there are ways to control darklings? To use them as assassins? All you need is a name and you can focus all that savage hunger on one single Fae prince.”
An army of assassin darklings . . . all trained on Valerian. I shudder. Still, after the last darkling attack, they reinforced the wards over the Island and the academy. They wouldn’t be able to get that many darklings past those defenses.
But off campus . . .
“The Wild Hunt,” I whisper.
“Ding ding ding.” He beams at me. “Stop frowning, Summer. You don’t need to worry about him anymore. You have me. In fact, why don’t you come back with me for a little while. We’ll have a party.”
“They’ll notice I’m gone.” Panic constricts my chest. I can’t leave with him; I have to warn Mack somehow. She’ll be with Asher and the prince . . . she could get hurt.
She could die.
“So what if they do?”
He reaches for me. At the same time, a blur catches my eye. A thunk, like a hammer hitting raw meat, fills the forest. Cal’s face changes, his smirk twitching into surprise. He cries out, collapsing to one knee.
An arrow sticks from his shoulder, silver blood sticky around the entry wound.
Jane walks up with another arrow nocked and ready. They’re not iron-tipped so they can’t kill him. But they can hurt like the devil.
“She isn’t going anywhere, dickwad,” Jane shouts.