Her eyes widen in confusion. “What do you—？”
“Keep your head down. Don’t look too closely at anyone or anything.” I lean forward until my lips are almost pressed against her ear, fighting the instincts roaring to life inside me with every breath we both take as I finish, “And always, always watch your back.”
Before she can answer, Foster and Macy come down the hall toward us. She turns to look at them, and I do what I have to do to keep her safe—do the only thing I can do in these ridiculous circumstances. I quickly fade to the stairs—the speed of it helping me pretend that each step away from her doesn’t cut like jagged, broken glass.
I plan on going back to my room, but I don’t make it that far. Instead, I stop just around the corner and listen to her voice as she talks to Foster. Not the words, just her voice, because I can’t get enough of her. Not now. Not yet.
Soon enough. I’m going to have to give this up.
Soon enough, I’m going to have to stay as far away from her as I possibly can. Because if I thought it was bad for her to be used as bait, that’s nothing compared to the danger of being a human mated to a vampire. And not just any vampire but one who holds the fate of the world in his hands.
It Only Takes
One Hot Vampire
to Win a Snowball Fight
—Jaxon—
I watch Grace head out the door with Flint and Macy and tell myself to walk away. That there’s nothing to worry about. That she’s going to be fine. And know, even as I say it to myself, that I’m going to follow them anyway.
Follow her anyway.
They’re out in the snow now, moving slowly enough that any predator with half a mind could catch them—while walking backward on a leisurely afternoon stroll. I wait for Flint to get fed up, to try to hurry Grace along, but he doesn’t do it. Instead, he walks close to her, laughing at whatever she’s saying, making her laugh in return.
It’s enough to make my blood boil, considering that’s my mate he’s trying to charm. And my mate he might very well be trying to kill. That thought does something way worse than make my blood boil. It makes every part of me freeze, every nerve in my body arrested with horror—and a rage so cold, it burns like ice.
Despite my determination to go unnoticed, I draw closer to them. Alarm bells are going off inside me, driving me to break all the rules I’ve held myself to for the last year. Making me do things that I normally wouldn’t even consider.
Then again, the last year has been all about doing things I wouldn’t have imagined. Things I wouldn’t wish on anyone, even a monster like myself. And now, here I am, trailing my ex-friend through the snow as I try to figure out exactly what Flint is up to.
There was a time not so long ago that I would have trusted him unconditionally, a time when he would have done the same for me. But that was a long time ago—in events if not in actual years. And now…now I don’t even trust him with a simple snowball fight.
I sure as shit don’t trust him with my mate.
The three of them finally make it out to the clearing where everyone is waiting. I stay in the trees, watching as Flint moves to the center of the group. He cracks a few jokes, loosens everyone up, then lays down the most ridiculous rules in existence—I should know. We made them up together years ago. Back when I got to at least pretend that I was like everyone else.
Grace watches him the whole time. It’s enough to set my teeth on edge…and more than enough to make me feel like some kind of stalker. I’m only here because every instinct I have is screaming at me that something is wrong, that my mate is in danger, but it’s still hard to justify peering at her from behind a tree like some kind of creep. Especially when she seems totally absorbed in another guy.
For a minute, just a minute, I think about heading back to the school. But then Flint finishes his rules and beckons like some kind of prince for Grace and Macy to join him. They do—of course they do—and Grace reaches up and pulls on his stupid dragon hat. Flint laughs and bends his head to give her better access, and I see fucking red.
Bloodred to be exact.
It takes every ounce of control I have to stay where I am, fists clenched and teeth on edge, as I try to figure out exactly what game Flint is playing. If he’s playing a game at all.
He bends down to talk to Grace, to whisper something in her ear that I’m too far away to hear—even with my heightened senses. And when his fucking lips nearly brush the small strip of exposed skin at the top of her cheek, my fangs explode in my mouth.