AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Put it on your head,” he commands.
I look out into the crowd. They want to see a spectacle? A show? I’ll give them one.
Silence descends as I lift the crown and settle it on my head. I stand there, feeling silly and awkward. What’s supposed to happen? I feel nothing.
A pink-skinned nymph in the front covers her mouth with a hand. “She wears the Summer Princess’s crown!”
Another cries, “The flowers—they’re blooming!”
Blooming? A collective gasp shatters the stillness. And then, as if synchronized, every single Fae in the audience drops into a bow.
Oh, no.
A whisper of panic hits me.
Hellebore wasn’t trying to humiliate me. He was trying to expose me.
“Nice to see you again, Princess Hyacinth Larkspur,” Hellebore whispers in my ear before slipping his arm in mine. I’m frozen, paralyzed with surprise and dread as he addresses the crowd. “Fellow Evermore, I’ve found the lost Summer Princess, the fiancé promised to me by her father, King Larkspur.”
All I hear is, the fiancé promised to me, and then my mind goes blank with horror.
Mack is in the crowd. We lock eyes. Her skin has lost all color, her mouth gaping in complete, utter confusion and shock. I spot Inara, Bane, and a few others close by.
Their expressions match Mack’s, although their faces have the added tinge of fear as they slowly realize the mortal they’ve been taunting was actually a Summer Court Princess.
That’s right, Fae-holes. Even in my ever-growing desperation, I manage to find a kernel of happiness in their terror.
After that, everything spirals into chaos. My mother springs to her feet, the Summer King rising behind her. Their court breaks into angry shouts while the Spring Court guards surround me. More guards grab me by the arms and drag me from the stage. The crush of bodies is disorienting.
I try to fight, but I might as well be struggling against boulders for all it does.
I kick and buck all the way to the palace. Hellebore laughs at my struggle, as if watching me be manhandled against my will is a delightful game.
“Where are you . . . taking me?” I pant.
He tsks. “Don’t be impatient. Can’t I surprise my fiancé?”
That word in connection to him makes me want to vomit. My feet drag over the tile floor as the guards push through a set of tall mahogany doors into a throne room. My gaze skips over the massive chandelier made from butterflies, the parquet floor of interlocking tiles in the shape of the Spring Court’s sigil, and onto the spectacle in the middle.
Oh, God, no.
Terror spikes my heart. Valerian, Eclipsa, and Asher are caught in the grasp of thick, thorny vines that sprout nearly fifteen feet into the air, held aloft like macabre decorations, and when I see their faces—
A flood of horror makes me nearly double over. “What have you done to them?”
They look . . . dead. Lifeless. Faces drained of blood and tinged a deathly blue. Lips purple. Eyes shut like they’re sleeping.
Please be sleeping. Please . . . I swallow down my cry when I realize that I don’t feel the bond with Valerian.
I feel . . . nothing.
A cold, dark emptiness that floods me with fear
“They’re not dead,” Hellebore offers blithely. “Yet. That’s up to you.”
“Poison,” I whisper. My insides twist. My skin both hot and cold, almost feverish as reality sinks in.
My mate and friends are poisoned . . . near death. At the mercy of a madman.
