Page 16 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“It’s almost a win.”
Damian licks his lips. “And I’malmostsmiling.”
After the other two judges congratulate us on a job well done, I stop by my room to change and take a quick shower before joining the undergraduate students on the mezzanine.
I sit alone along the banister, my back pressed against the intricate metal work and prop a book in my lap. If any of my fellow guardians walk past me, they’ll assume I’m waiting for the initiates to clear out of the atrium so I can head to the afterparty. I angle my face slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of my Songbird through the space between the railings.
She takes my breath away. Even from afar, all muddied up, she’s the most beautiful woman in the room—and by far.
I can’t afford for anyone to notice my fascination with her, or they might begin to suspect what I’ve done. I especially can’t let Damian catch me staring at her, not before we’re formally introduced.
My nemesis doesn’t share my restraint and glares unabashedly at the initiates, to the point where they gossip between themselves. The familiar timbre of Willow’s voice is easy to discern from the others, and a smile ghosts over my lips.
I always knew my little sister would crush the trials. Our father will finally stop holding that over her head.
After a minute, Damian marches over to me. I pretend to be engrossed in my reading and don’t acknowledge his presence until he clears his throat.
“Hey, Damian. Great job out there,” I say in a condescending manner.
“How did she do it? Cross the marshes so fast?” he grunts, tucking his mask inside his hooded cloak.
“Who?”
“The moth.”
“How would you know how long it took?” I ask with a grin, knowing damn well that it triggers his temper when I answer his questions with questions.
“I asked Diana, and she said the moth left her section of the labyrinth with barely fifteen minutes to spare.”
A cold sensation slithers deep in my gut, but I shrug. “She got lucky.”
He squints at me, his golden, liquid gaze locking with mine. I swear the man can see inside my soul, and I hate it.
“I can’t believe you let Zeke Nocturna slip through your fingers.” I purse my lips in a dramatic pout. “Too bad. So sad.”
Damian flashes me his best hawkish, disingenuous smile. “Zeke managed to trudge through my trial because he’s shadow through and through. It still doesn’t make him strong, smart, or skilled enough to claim his father’s crown. You letting a snowflake breeze through summer is really the only shocking twist of the night.”
My eyes narrow at the overbearing disbelief tainting his voice. If one of us should be suspected of cheating, it should be him. Light Fae usually don’t fare well in shadows, and two of them managed to pass his trial.
“What about Elio? Your nightmares couldn’t take him? An inexperienced Prince of Light?” I quip.
“You’d be surprised. There’s more to him than you know.”
“And what about the Spring rose? Or were you too chicken to eliminate the headmaster’s daughter?”
He shrugs. “She’s darker than expected.”
But my questions clearly hit a nerve, and he becomes real quiet. Knowing him, he’s replaying every moment of his trial and analyzing what he could have done better. The guy is a brooding perfectionist if I’ve ever met one.
Mission accomplished.Now, he’s picking apart his mistakes instead of wondering about mine. I snap my book shut and jolt to my feet, the initiates now gone to freshen up inside their dorms.
I lurk along the main pathway between the girls’ apartments and the beach for the next half an hour and hide behind a column when Willow and the headmaster’s daughter walk past. Beth is not with them nor following behind them, and my palms get a little sweaty.
I couldn’t have missed her, could I? I hope she’s alright, and that Damian didn’t ambush her with questions about what happened in the labyrinth.
A few minutes pass as I try to determine if I should head to the north wing, but I’m not sure which floor the initiates were assigned. I’m about to enter the gardens to check when Beth finally appears at the top of the stone stairs leading down to the sea.
My heart almost jumps out of my chest. “Songbird. Hi.”
