Page 155 of Castle of Nevers and Nightmares

“Who was the worst?”I ask to distract him.

“That depends on your definition of worse.”He pauses.“And ‘was’ is such a dubious tense.”

“No, it’s not! It’s clearly a past tense. Wait... are you teasing me again?”

“Your buttons are too easy to push.”

“You should know,”I fire back, “that Sylvanar confiscated his son’s charm from me, or rather, Geraldine, but I told him it was mine.”

The temperature drops to arctic, and I immediately regret my words.I sense his wraith move about. Brushes of wind and phantom tingles pass my face. Codex pages on desks flutter, one book after another. Is he pacing?

“Relax,”I tell him.“Sylvanar tried to intimidate me, but Goodfellow reminded him that breaking the code has consequences. After the Baleful Hunt left a petrified exhibitor in the woods this morning, I think we’re safe from code violations for now.”

“I’m coming home,”Fox insists.

“Honestly, it’s fine. I’m more concerned about Geraldine and the others. Someone killed Bob this morning right under their noses. If I’d arrived five minutes earlier, I’d have stopped the attack.”

“I’m so sorry, little wolf. This is your source of pain? Give me a name, and I’ll feast on their soul tonight.”His tone returns to calm.“Wait. Who’s Bob?”

A small laugh chuffs from my lips. I can’t expect them to pay attention to everything I do.

Because hearing his mental voice is still better than the lecture, I explain who the Nothings are, how they’ve been kind to me, and how I promised to help them survive the tournament. When he listens, sympathizes, and brushes his ghostly hand against mine, I blurt out everything, including why they hate me now.

“Willow,”his voice feels like velvet again, soft and comforting.“I didn’t know they meant so much to you. Let me see what I can do to help. Leave it with me.”

“Really?”I fight my smile.

“For you, I would rearrange the stars.”

I add another point beneath the list of descriptors on the Sluagh entry:Hopeless Romantics.

“Who eat the hearts of their queen’s enemies,”he adds.“Write that one down too.”

I scratch out the romantic part with a silent eye roll, but then tap the quill against my lips and reconsider. Okay. Maybe I’ll write that part back in.

“Of course you will,”he teases.“You love my taste for blood.”

A flash of his head buried between my thighs.

“Get out of my head!”

He chuckles and gives me what feels like a metaphysical kiss on the cheek. Then his presence slips away from my mind. Grinning like a lovesick fool, I resist the urge to etch little love hearts around the Sluagh picture. We’re not perfect, but we’re mates. I feel it in my heart, curling around that little place always vibrating when they’re near.

I add a curly mustache to the Sluagh’s face, then admire my handiwork. A large hand slams down on the book, shocking my heart into cardiac arrest. Glancing up, I’m pinned by Lord Sylvanar’s dark, stony eyes promising retribution. Beside him, Lord Ignarius watches with a matching expression. Only his eyes are filled with smarmy self-satisfaction. Behind them, Robin Goodfellow raises his lumpy eyebrows as if to say—gotcha.

“Uniform violation.” Sylvanar’s voice is devoid of emotion as he presses his finger onto the desk—on the written violation paper he slammed over the codex a moment earlier.

“Fox?”I send.“You still there?”

Silence.

Shit.

Ignarius drops another violation onto the desk and struts back to Goodfellow, who gestures toward Alfie and says, “Shadow Alfred, kindly recite the punishment for repeat offenses and failure to show for disciplinary action?”

“This is the first time I received these violations.” I clench my fists. “How can I fail to appear if I never knew?”

The entire room turns to Alfie, who stands and recites, “Violators are subjected to public humiliation, their flaws recounted in a grand procession through the streets.”

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