I shake my head. “That’s weird. It’s not supposed to storm tonight.”

“Prince Lincoln!” The voices outside grow louder.

Lincoln sighs. “We better go.”

We leave the greenhouse, remount our horses and ride back to the thrax compound. All around, voices call for Prince Lincoln. More torches flash in the darkness. Lincoln rides up beside me and grabs Nightshade’s reins. “Your cottage is past those trees. You should go; I’ll take care of Night.”

I give Lincoln a silent thumbs-up and tiptoe to my cottage door. The room is cozy, warm, and inviting. I change into my new nightie, slip under the covers, and quickly fall asleep, smiling my face off the entire time.

I awaken the next morning to the sound of Mom’s voice. She’s not happy, which means one thing: I’m in trouble.

“Myla.” Mom taps my shoulder. “Come on, wake up.”

I open my eyes, looking as innocent as possible. “Good morning, Mom.”

Her mouth thins to an angry line. “What happened yesterday?”

She’s getting right down to business. Correction: I’m in deep trouble.

“Nothing. I just sat in here, minding my own business.” I force myself to cough. Twice. “Recovering. Why?”

“Reperio demons were released at the Scala winter feast last night. The same ones that went missing from your school yesterday. It caused quite a ruckus.”

“A ruckus, huh? They should have better security.” I do my best to shiver. “I heard the screaming around dinnertime. It was so frightening; I stayed in here and did homework.”

Mom’s brown eyes narrow. “I see. What kind of homework?”

“Very important…Homework.” I’m not exactly a wiz thinking on my feet, unless it involves killing something.

“Humph. The Ryders reported that someone broke into their botanical gardens last night too.”

“No way. That’s shocking!”

“You’re a terrible liar, Myla.”

I shoot her a grin and maybe it’s a bit too cocky. “Hey, I have my story and I’m sticking to it.”

“We’re going home. Now.”

My smile fades. I guess I knew it would end this way all along, but it’s still a bummer to leave early.

Mom grabs my little pile of things and walks out of the cottage. I slip into my sweats and follow her outside. Everyone’s awake and peeping their heads outside their windows or fancy tent-flaps. Lincoln stands in front of his cottage, leaning against the doorjamb. He wears a fitted white t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. My hands itch to touch his chest. Now.

Mom marches over to Betsy and revs her engine. I follow her to the car, feeling Lincoln’s eyes on me. I shoot him a glance as I slide into the front seat. He winks; I blush. Damn, yesterday was a lot of fun.

We drive past a long line of cottages. The Great Ladies stand outside them, each one wearing a long nightgown in her house’s color. If looks were needles, I’d be a pincushion right now.

I’m going home a day early, but that was worth it. Absolutely.