❅ Chapter 5 ❅

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More like I was flooding back into consciousness, but still. When I came to, the world was a white-gray haze in front of me before shadows and shapes swam back into focus. Nicola leaned over me, balancing her weight on the balls of her heels, her fingers curled into my shoulders, shaking me.

"Eve?" I heard her voice shout, but everything was still so cloudy. "Eve!"

She shook me harder this time, hard enough to jar my leg, sending waves of pain pulsing through my tendons. I hissed and shook her off. "I'm fine," I grunted.

"I beg to differ," she accused, her hazel eyes slimming in accusation, all hints of worry wiped away.

I waved her off, sitting up on my elbows. The world tilted for a moment, but then it shifted back into focus. But I still had a killer headache.

"What happened?" She pressed, stepping back to give me some room. When I lifted my hand, she took my fingers in her palm and helped haul my upward.

I looked her in the eyes. What did happen? The last thing I remembered before my world faded into a hurricane of white hot agony was Nicola coaxing her small plant to grow with her magic.

I thought back to the, what do I call it? A memory? No, it couldn't have been. I was there, living it again. Seeing Foster's deformed body and bloody eyes. It was more like... like a vision.

But that realization hit me like a ton of bricks, smooshing the air from my lungs and crushing my chest under its invisible weight. If that was indeed a vision, then what I saw of Foster was... true. She was torturing him for betraying her, for telling me about her plan. And I'd have to give myself up for him to live.

This time the floor swayed under me for different reasons, bile rising in my throat as I choked on reality.

"Eve, what happened?" Nicola repeated, her fingers curling into my shoulder for support. I could feel her body heat soaking through the fabric of my black sweater, and I clung to that - her warmth. It was the only thing that wasn't cold, deadly, and heartbreaking. And the fact that I thought that shattered me further. I didn't want to hate Winter. Hell, I was Winter. The Winter Court was my home, my true home, and I was its princess.

"I saw my mother," I said.

My words sunk into her like time had aged my mother's eyes, and she blanched. "What?" She whispered. Nicola was no fool. She might not've fought my mother's army, or even seen my mother's disgustingly beautiful face, but she knew all about the reputation she carried on her shoulders. Winter was the only kingdom the Order had a problem with. Spring, Autumn, and Summer were just whispers in the wind, unknown, while Winter was a heart wrenching nightmare that seemed to haunt us like demented shadows.

I nodded. "I don't know what it was. A visions maybe, I'm not sure. But I saw-" My throat closed, clogging my words.

Pity melted over Nicola's face, flooding into her eyes. "You saw him, didn't you?"

I never told Nicola about Foster, never even mentioned his name when I was telling her about my time in the Winter Court. I made sure I specifically avoided him altogether, simply because talking about him, or even thinking about him put too much weight on my heart, and I couldn't handle it.

But somehow, even after months and our blood separating us, she seemed to know me better than anyone else did. Even better than myself.

She must've saw the vulnerability in my eyes, because a small smile played on her lips. "You better stop playing me for a fool, Neva Genevieve Scotts. Did you really think that I didn't know you were leaving something out?" She placed her hand softly on my right shoulder, her face kind. "Like honestly, if all the time with me didn't teach you to lie better, I better find a new best friend because that was just pathetic."

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