Chapter One: The Princess Returns

Everyone bowed.

Amelia Corvo hated when they did that.

The moment the black royal motorcade passed through the iron gates of Helix Supernatural Academy, students began turning toward it. Conversations died. Heads lifted. Phones appeared despite the academy’s rather aggressive rules concerning photography of royal students.

Amelia watched through the tinted window.

“Wonderful,” she murmured.

Lady Elara glanced up from the tablet balanced across her knees. “Your Highness?”

“They’re staring.”

“They always stare.”

“That doesn’t make it less irritating.”

“No,” Elara agreed. “But after eighteen years, I would have thought you’d developed a tolerance.”

Amelia turned slowly.

Elara’s mouth twitched.

“You are becoming entirely too comfortable speaking to me that way.”

“I’ve been dressing you since you were six. If you intended to have me executed for insolence, I imagine you’d have done it by now.”

Amelia fought her smile.

Across from them, Captain Lucien Vale did not.

Her chief security officer hadn’t smiled once during the forty-minute journey from Corvo House to Helix.

Amelia wasn’t entirely convinced he knew how.

He sat dressed in black, broad shoulders nearly spanning his side of the vehicle, with an earpiece tucked discreetly behind one ear. The silver insignia of the Siren Crown rested against his collar.

“North entrance secured,” a voice murmured through his earpiece.

Lucien touched it.

“Copy.”

Amelia sighed.

“Lucien.”

“Your Highness.”

“Must we do this?”

“Yes.”

“There are hundreds of students here.”

“Precisely.”

“Students who have attended school with me practically my entire life.”

“Also true.”

“Then why do I need six armed guards?”

“Eight.”

Amelia stared at him.

Lucien stared back.

“You’re proving my point.”

“Your father requested twelve.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Elara suddenly became extremely interested in her tablet.

“Twelve?”

“I negotiated.”

“You negotiated my security detail down to eight?”

“You’re welcome.”

The vehicle stopped.

Amelia looked through the window again.

And her stomach dropped.

Hundreds.

There had to be hundreds of them.

Werewolves gathered beneath the sprawling oak trees surrounding the western courtyard. Fae occupied the marble steps as though the architects had constructed them specifically for their convenience. Witches, vampires, shifters, sirens and dozens of supernatural bloodlines Amelia couldn’t identify filled the grounds.

Humans were here too.

Not many.

Helix had begun admitting human students into several Upper Academy programs after the Integration Accords.

That decision alone had nearly caused three members of the Supernatural Council to resign.

Amelia’s father had voted in favor of it.

Privately, he’d called the entire controversy grown people behaving like frightened children.

Amelia had repeated that at dinner once.

Her mother nearly choked on her wine.

The door opened.

Lucien stepped out first.

Everything changed.

Security moved into position.

Students straightened.

And Amelia suddenly wasn’t Amelia anymore.

She was Princess Amelia Lillian Corvo, First Daughter of the Siren Crown, Duchess of Marehaven, Lady Protector of the Eastern Waters and sole heir to the Corvo throne.

She hated that version of herself sometimes.

Amelia placed her hand into Lucien’s.

One silver heel touched the pavement.

Then the other.

She stood.

Silence rolled across the courtyard.

Amelia lifted her chin.

Her mother’s voice immediately entered her head.

A crown is worn long before anyone places it upon your head.

So Amelia walked.

Elara followed three paces behind her.

Two members of her court followed Elara.

Security spread around them.

Students bowed as she passed.

Some deeply.

Some reluctantly.

Some not at all.

Amelia noticed those.

She always noticed.

Then somewhere above the courtyard—

someone laughed.

Not a polite laugh.

Not nervous laughter.

A man’s laugh.

Amelia stopped.

Lucien’s head turned instantly.

Half the courtyard seemed to collectively stop breathing.

Amelia looked toward the marble staircase.

Two young men remained seated.

One was unmistakably fae.

Even without the subtle shimmer beneath his skin, Amelia would have known.

Beautiful.

That was the irritating thing about fae.

Every single one of them seemed designed specifically to remind everyone else that nature had favorites.

His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead. His uniform jacket was open despite regulations, tie loosened around his neck, long legs stretched over the steps as though Helix belonged to him.

Amelia recognized him.

Everyone did.

Felix Ashford.

House Ashford.

One of the oldest fae bloodlines remaining.

And beside him—

Amelia’s attention shifted.

Her heart did something strange.

The other boy wasn’t beautiful.

Not like Felix.

He was—

dangerous.

Broad shoulders.

Dark hair.

Hard jaw.

A small scar cutting through one eyebrow.

His academy blazer had been abandoned entirely beside him, leaving him in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Werewolf.

Definitely.

And not just any werewolf.

Dante Lennox.

Heir to the Lennox Pack.

Her father’s least favorite werewolf family.

Possibly his least favorite family, period.

Dante looked directly at her.

He didn’t bow.

Didn’t lower his eyes.

Didn’t even pretend.

Amelia’s eyebrows lifted.

Dante’s did too.

Felix noticed.

Then Felix smiled.

Oh.

Amelia immediately disliked that smile.

It was the smile of a man who had gotten away with entirely too much for entirely too long.

Felix finally stood.

He descended one step and performed an exaggerated bow.

“Your Royal Highness.”

Several students snickered.

Amelia stared at him.

Then she looked at Dante.

Still sitting.

“Does your friend have difficulty standing?”

The courtyard went silent again.

Felix’s grin widened.

Dante slowly leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees.

“No.”

His voice carried farther than Amelia expected.

“Then perhaps he’s confused.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“About?”

Amelia smiled.

“When one is supposed to bow.”

Someone gasped.

Elara whispered behind her.

“Amelia.”

Too late.

Dante stood.

And stood.

And stood.

Amelia hadn’t realized how large he was from the car.

He descended the stairs until only several feet separated them.

Lucien immediately stepped forward.

Amelia subtly lifted two fingers.

Stop.

Lucien stopped.

Dante noticed that too.

Interesting.

Dante looked down at her.

“Maybe I don’t bow.”

Amelia tilted her head.

“Everyone bows eventually.”

Something flashed through Dante’s eyes.

Felix actually laughed.

Amelia turned away.

“Enjoy your morning, gentlemen.”

She continued walking.

Her court followed.

Security followed.

The courtyard slowly came alive behind her.

Amelia didn’t turn around.

She absolutely did not turn around.

She didn’t care whether Dante Lennox was watching her.

And she certainly didn’t care about Felix Ashford.

She reached the enormous doors leading into Helix Hall.

Elara stepped beside her.

“You realize your father is going to hear about that.”

“About what?”

“You antagonizing the Lennox heir approximately forty-seven seconds after arriving.”

“He started it.”

“You’re eighteen.”

“And?”

“That excuse stopped working approximately ten years ago.”

Amelia smiled.

Behind them, Felix watched the enormous doors close.

Then he looked at Dante.

Dante was still staring.

Felix’s smile returned.

“No.”

Dante looked at him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to.”

Felix returned to the stairs and retrieved his jacket.

“Absolutely not.”

Dante followed.

“You’re scared.”

Felix stopped.

Slowly.

He turned.

“I’m sorry?”

Dante smiled.

There it was.

The expression responsible for approximately eighty percent of Felix’s poor decisions since childhood.

“You’re scared of her.”

Felix looked toward Helix Hall.

Then back at Dante.

“The princess?”

“The princess.”

Felix scoffed.

“She’s pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“Fine. Beautiful.”

“Thought so.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

Dante folded his arms.

Felix recognized the challenge immediately.

“No.”

Dante hadn’t even spoken yet.

Felix pointed at him.

“Whatever idiotic thought has just entered that oversized canine skull of yours, the answer is no.”

Dante grinned.

“First one she falls for.”

Felix stared at him.

Dante extended his hand.

Felix looked at it.

Then toward the doors Amelia had disappeared behind.

Princess Amelia Corvo.

Untouchable.

Protected.

Sheltered.

The most sought-after supernatural heiress of their generation.

Daughter of a king who could have either of them thrown from a palace balcony and probably convince the Supernatural Council it had been an unfortunate architectural incident.

Felix should have walked away.

Instead, he smiled.

“Falls for?”

Dante’s grin widened.

“Completely.”

Felix considered him.

“And the loser?”

“We’ll figure that out.”

“No. Absolutely not. If I’m risking execution, I want terms.”

Dante laughed.

Felix extended his hand.

“By Founder’s Ball.”

Dante clasped it.

“By Founder’s Ball.”

Neither noticed the girl standing on the balcony above them.

Neither saw her expression change.

And neither man could possibly have known that before the year was over, they would both desperately wish they’d never shaken hands at all.