I give him a sloppy salute and make my way down the steps. I lope off, everything hazy, and round a large maple tree before realizing nothing is familiar. I’ve seen this tree, but not in this direction.
Concealed beneath its shadows, Morgan and Kasper heatedly whisper to each other. If I hide now, I’ll make even more noise, though I sway on the spot. I bend down, holding my laces, keeping as still as possible, despite my vision rocking, head swaying.
“It’s not that I don’t agree with the sentiment, but the planning is idiotic at best,” Kasper hisses. “I already spent a night in the damn Boiler. I don’t want any part of it.”
I forgot he and Morgan spent a night in the sweltering detention hall for being too close when that assassination attempt against Draven went down. They’ve never brought it up, at least not with me.
“We could use you,” Morgan growls.
“And Rune? You think that’s wise?” Kasper’s voice drops on my name. I strain to hear, my body swaying in the wind.
“She’s the key—” But Morgan stops himself as I tip over, catching myself on a branch. A rookie mistake but I’m too gone to have prevented it. They both turn to me.
“Hellooooo, boys.” I stand and hitch a smile to my lips and point to the tree. “Did this move?”
“You’re going the wrong way. Turn around.” Kasper speeds off down the Oval toward his own Hearth, jogging a bit to catch up with the others. Felix and Amaya have their arms linked andare singing some bawdy song far down the walkway. Across the Oval, Cleona escorts Ember back to the Star.
“I don’t think you were going the wrong way.” Morgan watches me, his body still in the dark beneath this tree. “My Hearth is right here.”
It suddenly occurs to me how far everyone else is from us.
“I need to get to sleep,” I say quickly, but he strides over and scoops his arm beneath mine anyway. He tugs me back, but I push toward the World. I need home. Well, not home … but myHearth. Morgan relents, heading with me in the right direction, but his grip is still too firm. I try to pull my arm loose and again the pervasive thought ofI’m too drunkunhelpfully enters my mind.
I’m seeing double of him. He twinkles in and out of focus. I both don’t like and don’t trust the lava-cursed boy anymore. What was he stopped from saying just now?She’s the key—to what exactly?
My hand moves toward my tarot box, wondering if I can draw my cards, but nothing arises. His hand curls over mine possessively.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather come back to the Moon’s Hearth? I can take better care of you there,” he offers. I’d rather do most anything than go home with him.
If I were sober, I’d have him lying flat on his ass in a few swift moves, but with this much alcohol, I’m not as sure of myself. What was he in the Ten Spires Clan? A thief? Muscle? Something worse?
“I didn’t know you and Kasper were close.” My observation is too heavy-handed. It’s clear by the narrowing of his dark brows as he looks down at me.
“We have similar feelings about the immortals.” His hand curls to a fist. “I think you’d understand that.”
“Well, you’re one of them now.” It makes me sound like Draven.
“You know, you could use that pretty face of yours, and the prince’s thirst for you, to our advantage. Manipulate him to release some of us from this place—imagine having this power in the mortal realm. We’d be gods.” He grins at the thought, though the idea falls flat with me.
Alarm gnaws at my gut, thinking about how to get out of this.
“It’s the least they could do, for taking us away. The arrogance of the Selection. Give us these powers and then expect us to play good little servants—”
“I’m glad I was Selected,” I say, tingeing my voice with ice.
Morgan’s expression pinches, like he’s disappointed. “Still, we should stick together.” He pulls me so tightly against him it hurts, his nose nuzzling my neck. “Come back to my room with me.”
I pull away. “I’m pretty sure my mate would notice if I didn’t return.” My heart is pounding hard enough that my head clears. Some men really don’t like hearing the wordno. And I want to remind him someone more powerful than me will notice my absence.
“Him.” Morgan’s tone sours steeply. As we reach the steps to my Hearth, he glares as if it holds a monster in the darkness of its halls. “You never answered my question. If you could sleep with anyone here, who would you choose?”
I yank my hand from his, glad to be in the shadow of my building now. I don’t like the possessive way he’s watching me, as though I belong to him. The campus is too dark. The house behind me quiet.Where are you, Draven?
“Answer the question, Rune.”
“Not you,” I spit. He lunges for the tarot cards on my belt, and I manage to summon the World and Strength, leaning out ofreach as he swipes at the wind an inch from my throat. I sweep under his open arm and throw him over my shoulder, his weight shockingly light with magic running through my muscles. He slams to the ground in a heap. The Strength Arcana helps me, but I’m sloppier than usual. I barely disentangle before I heave up my drinks on all fours. He crawls over to me, hand clawing up my cards, and he curses at the burn of the two in use.
Adrenaline hits—I need to get away—and I leave the cards, rushing toward the stairs, scrambling toward my Hearth.
