33. Bitten

Chapter 33

Bitten

LORI

" W elcome back," Daisy greets me from her cot. An intricate French braid pulls her long blond hair away from her face, and she's wearing a pink, strapless ballgown. She braces her hands on her hips and scours my body from head to toe. "You don't look quite as beaten up as I expected."

"They have good healers here. I heard I almost didn't make it." My lips twitch. "Happy to see you in one piece, too, partner."

It's easier to act as though I've just woken up from my injuries rather than explain what I've been doing with the Winter King in the Ice City, but it's weird to be back in the Spring dorms.

Daisy's gaze drops to the ground between us. "I saw the tape from the mountains."

"You did? I thought they weren't big on replays around here."

"You risked your life to save me, Lori. Thank you." She looks down her nose at the clothes I borrowed. "You should hurry and change. They're supposed to announce the three finalists in half an hour."

My throat shrinks.

"With only five of us left in the running, it should be quick," Daisy adds.

The tingles at the back of my neck spread to my chest. "Five? I thought only one Red had died?"

"Yes, the quiet one didn't make it, but her companions pulled out of the pageant, leaving you, me, Wendy, and the two other Winter seeds," she explains. "But don't fret. He's all yours."

"Oh?"

She shifts in her seat and adjusts the thick tulle of her crinoline. "After seeing him jump after you inside that avalanche, no one would doubt it. To be honest, I'm looking forward to going home. Maybe with a frost apple, if I'm lucky." She licks her lips. "What about you? Aren't you freaked out that he's going to kill you, too? Or is he that good in bed that you're willing to take your chances?" she says, wiggling her brows.

By the spindle… Am I really going to marry Elio?

I never thought this charade would go as far as that, but with everything that's happened, I'm not sure I can stand the alternative, either.

"Definitely freaked out," I answer under my breath, the weight of it all piling on my shoulders.

Seth enters through the door leading to the dressing room. "Lori, you're back!" He leaves the door ajar as he jogs to my side, his face heavy with relief—and maybe a hint of fear. "I need a word with you."

Daisy rolls her eyes. "Come on, guys. You can trust me. I'm the only Spring seed left, and I already know Lori's a spider."

"I'm sorry, Day. This is need-to-know only."

With a huff, she stomps toward the door leading out to the gardens. "Fine. Be that way."

Seth waits for the door to slam shut with a loud bang before he asks, "Where were you? Byron said you were alright, but they wouldn't let me anywhere near you?—"

"The Ice City. They plunged me into a healing spring to keep me alive after the avalanche, but it's all a big secret," I whisper.

It's only the two of us, and the big dorms and adjoined dressing room feel so empty compared to how it was at the beginning.

Seth slips a hand inside his white tuxedo's pocket and hands over my mask. "Here. Put this on."

I pause, a nervous hiccup caught in my windpipe. "Where are we going?" I plaster the mask in place over the bridge of my nose, and the familiarity and safety of its size and weight soothes my nerves.

Seth walks to the door Daisy just stormed through and clicks the lock. "Nowhere, but my mother wants to meet you." He moves to close the intimacy drapes framing the windows, and the bright sunshine dims into a pleasant glow.

"Your mother, Freya, the Spring Queen? That mother?"

"It's a pretty common thing to only have one."

I punch his arm. "Why would I ever want to meet your mother? She's going to find out I'm a spider in seconds ."

Seth looks me up and down with a knowing smile.

"What?" I bark.

"You called yourself a spider."

"And?" I breathe, suddenly engrossed in the small lint pieces floating about the room.

"You've never used the term before. Not since I met you. Are you finally making peace with that scar in your side?" His brows pull together. "Or is it healed?" he extends a hand toward my rib, but I slap his grubby hand away.

"Are you my shrink, now?" I slide out of reach. "Your mother, Seth. Let's talk about that, first."

He holds out his palms in surrender. "She freaked out when she saw you and grilled me with questions. I didn't want her to send her cupids after you, so I had to promise her something ." He waves dismissively at that, like a promise to the Spring Queen is not at all cause for concern. "Don't worry, we'll tell her your resemblance to Iris is just a freak coincidence?—"

"What if it's not?" I deadpan.

He frowns at that, his entire demeanor switching from apologetic to inquisitive in the span of one breath. "What else could it be?"

"I don't know."

I shouldn't spill my secrets just as we're about to face his mother. Seth can't lie, so it's better for him not to know.

"Right. Let's stick with the freak coincidence hypothesis, and whatever you do, do not mention Damian. Or Morrigan. Or my brother. Let me speak, really."

"She doesn't know about your brother?"

"She doesn't like to be reminded of my father's real family, as she puts it."

My top lip curls in disgust, all the gossip I've heard growing up about the woman in charge of mortals' love lives solidified. "That's horrible."

"Yes, well… That's my mother for you."

"A horrible mother. Is that what I am, Sethanias?" A sultry, amused voice booms from the surface of the mirror, the glass plying to let the Spring Queen through.

Eek. My eyes bulge, and I give Seth a pointed look, quietly mouthing, "Sethanias?"

His spine straightens as he offers his mother a sheepish bow. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean?—"

"Shush. Didn't I always tell you to own up to your wickedness, my precious weed?" The woman I saw the other day at brunch—and a couple of times in Iris's past—glides over to me, her hand wrapped tightly around a peacock decorative fan.

A striking dress made out of a thousand rose petals gilded in thin sheets of gold hugs her curves. The tall white wig on top of her head and dramatic makeup give her a striking fairytale flair, and I lose my tongue for a moment.

She peels her golden mask away from her eyes, her lips pursed as she examines me.

A lustrous aura of power hovers around her bosomed frame, the Spring Queen made to compel all mortals to kneel at her feet and pledge their lives to her glory. If not for my mask, I would probably do the same.

"Marvelous. Absolutely flawless." She pinches my chin between her index finger and thumb. "What are you, child?"

"I'm Lori."

She flashes me a full row of perfect, straight teeth. "Lori of…"

"Of Chicago."

Seth clears his throat. "She's a spider. I found her and hired her to spy on the Winter King. I couldn't find any familial relation to Iris, so I think her appearance is a freak coincidence."

"Dearest Sethanias…such coincidences don't exist." Freya waves her fan vigorously at her chest. "I knew you'd dug up the girl from some dark hole in the Shadowlands. One look at her was enough for me to know she had more thorns than all the roses in my court combined." She turns her attention back to me. "So, Lori of Chicago. What happened on that mountain? They cut the feeds for minutes only to titillate us with one glimpse of the fleeing rebels…"

"I don't think they stopped the broadcast on purpose," Seth says.

Freya's lips tense, revealing fine lines around her mouth. "Did I give you permission to interrupt?"

The prince's purple gaze flies to the ground. "No, Ma'am."

"I've heard rumors of revolutionists slipping through your father's fingers and infiltrating the other courts, but none that were substantiated until last night…" She taps the tip of her folded fan to her bottom lip in a repetitive motion. "If an all-out war is about to break out, it wouldn't hurt to have eyes and ears in Wintermere."

Seth scoffs. "Lori's not going to marry Elio?—"

"Why not? This year's pageant might be the most important since our dear Iris died." Her gaze softens as though she's seeing her niece in my place. "Spider or not, you can't go out there representing Spring in anything but the best."

Freya twirls her decorative fan around, and my clothes unspool like a ball of wool.

A strapless black corset appears around my body, combined with a long white tulle skirt. Studded velvet roses are sewn into the bodice of the corset, and the laced up front smashes my breasts together to create more cleavage than I ever thought I had. A truly original, rockstar-chic confection, polished with shiny leather flats. The shoe's black ribbons wrap around my ankles and make me feel like a naughty ballerina.

If I have to wear a dress, this one isn't half bad.

"Go and claim your prize, mortal. But never forget who put you there." There's no mistaking the clear you owe me in Freya's tone .

My very own Scary Godmother.

She secures her mask back on and waltzes out through the mirror.

After her departure, I peel off my own mask and study my reflection. A thick, glossy side ponytail cascades down to my waist, and smoky eyes paired with dark, matte lipstick complete the look. If it weren't for the sapphire mask in my hands, I wouldn't recognize the woman in the mirror. I paw at the unfamiliar contours of the corset.

Seth lets out a low whistle. "Wow. You look gorgeous. Now, we can only hope that icicle selects you to win one of his precious apples, and you can sneak inside his tower after the broadcast to look for clues?—"

"Elio isn't in leagues with Morrigan. Her spiders were there on the mountain, but he had no idea. If not for me, Elio would have been killed up there," I blurt out.

"Something's changed…" Seth narrows his eyes at me like he's searching for something, and his jaw slacks. "Have you slept with him?"

"And what if I did?"

He shakes his head, over and over again. "No, Lori. You can't marry him."

A burst of heat engulfs me. "Was I supposed to fall for you in between brides? I've lost count of the girls you've fucked, Seth."

"I—No! Damn you, Lori. We're friends ."

I cross my arms over my corset, my legs jittery and restless. "Friends don't throw jealous fits and judge each other for who they sleep with."

"I'm scared for you ."

"Elio doesn't kill his brides. It's a curse…" I rationalize, but a small voice—perhaps the same voice who always pleaded with me never to stand out—agrees with him.

Seth holds out both arms in front of him in unequivocal dissent. "You've known him for what? Six days? That's not enough history to risk your life, even if you think he's innocent."

Has it really only been six days? By Morpheus… What if some magic is speaking here, and not me? I haven't worn my mask the last few days. Maybe the glitz and glamour of the Winter Court have drilled so deeply into my mortal brain that I can no longer tell death from candy.

"Morrigan's spiders guarded the entrance to the mines, so whoever the Gray Man is, he's in leagues with her. They're the bad guys—not Elio."

I might not be sure about the source of my feelings for him, but I'm sure of that.

"The Gray Man?"

"I think he's the one leading the Tidecallers," I say.

I quickly explain what happened on the mountains beyond what has been broadcasted, but Seth's expression remains unmoved.

"Damian will kill me if I let you do this—" he starts.

"I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions, and I've done my part." My heart beats in my throat as I roll my shoulders back. "The winter solstice is tomorrow. You need to make good on your promise."

Seth presses his lips together in a thin line. "A deal is a deal, of course. But I still think you're making a mistake."

A rapid succession of knocks interrupts our conversation, and Seth walks over to unlock the door while I hide my mask behind the skirt of my dress.

Byron's wings flap as he hovers in mid-air on the other side of the door with his trusty clipboard in hand. "Don't dawdle. The broadcast will commence in ten minutes. I need you two in the ballroom now ."