The streets of Grimwall Hollow pressed in on us—cracked sidewalks, flickering lamps, apartment blocks stitched together with rusted balconies and boards. The air smelled like rain-soaked brick and the cling of fried street food. A knot of humans huddled outside a corner store, hoodies up; a woman argued with a vendor over bruised fruit.

Cassie’s nose wrinkled like she’d stepped in something foul. “Tell me again why the princess of Summer dragged me into a crime documentary?”

I smirked, tugging her closer by the hand. “Relax, Firebreak. You’re with me. No one here’s going to bite.”

Her blue gaze flicked to an alley where a guy in a patched leather coat definitely had too many teeth for a human. “Yeah, sure, no one’s going to bite. Mira, this place has tetanus.”

A laugh slipped out—sharp, bright. “Gods, you’re dramatic. It’s just a neighborhood.”

“It’s a neighborhood where the streetlights are losing a battle with the shadows and the graffiti is written in runes I’m pretty sure would hex me if I stared too long.” She gave me that perfect ice-queen smile—the one that used to make me want to strangle her when she was just my rival. “But by all means, Firefly, continue this romantic tour of condemned housing.”

I bumped her shoulder, grinning wider. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re panicking.”

Her jaw dropped. “I am not panicking.”

“Uh-huh.” I stopped before a boarded-up tailor’s. The sign hung crooked; grime filmed the windows. Perfect. I spread my palm over the wood. I don’t bring people here—no courtiers, no nobles. If I’m showing you this door, it’s because in there I get to be just Mira. “You’ll love this next part.”

Cassie stared at the warped boards like I’d lost it. “Mira… it’s condemned.”

I leaned in, let my grin sharpen just enough to bait her. “Can’t wait to show you off and put you in my trophy case.”

Before she could retort, the glamour rippled under my hand. The door sighed open. Behind the broken facade unfurled a velvet-draped stairwell, pulsing with bass and muffled laughter. Warm, spiced air kissed my face—smoke and something wild.

Cassie froze, eyes wide. I tugged her hand. “Welcome to the Howling Moon, Firebreak.”

The door hushed shut behind us, swallowing the Hollow whole.

Gone were cracked sidewalks and sagging balconies. In their place: velvet shadows and low amber glow. Lanterns floated lazily overhead, honeying gilt rails and glass-beaded curtains. A horn crooned smoky jazz from the corner, brass shimmering with no player in sight. Laughter curled like smoke—secretive, sultry.

Tonight the tavern was a speakeasy: velvet whispers, silk-clad danger.

Cassie’s fingers tightened around mine. Our rings sparked where our hands met—a sharp flare of heat, then a tether—and suddenly I wasn’t just feeling her palm in mine. I was feeling her.

Awe bloomed warm in my chest, not mine but hers. For a heartbeat I saw myself through Cassie’s eyes: hair catching firelight like a living flame, a smile daring sin, my shoulders easing like I’d stepped into the one place I belonged.

Heat flashed up my cheeks. Saints above.

Cassie cleared her throat, lifting her chin like she hadn’t just handed me her soul. “Hmm. Not bad. A little dusty. Could use a chandelier polish.”

I bit back a grin, tugging her farther in. “Keep talking, Firebreak. Maybe they’ll let you on staff.”

Her icy-blue gaze swept the room, pointedly unimpressed. She leaned closer, stage-whispered, “The chairs are mismatched. Half of them look stolen.”

Our rings thrummed—and what poured through wasn’t disdain but a livewire fascination.

I almost laughed. She tried again. “And that horn? Off-key. Whoever enchanted it should be fired.”

But under the words, her awe bled into me like wine across silk—dizzying, impossible to hide.

I slowed, leaned until my breath brushed her ear. “You know the ring tattles, right?”

She stiffened. “What?”

I tapped the band on her finger, letting my grin turn wicked. “Every time you pretend you’re not impressed? I feel the truth anyway.”

Her mask faltered; her lips parted just enough to give her away.

I pressed a kiss to her temple, smug and aching all at once. “Face it, Firebreak. You’re mine now. Even your lies can’t hide from me.”

Naomi clocked us first—of course she did; nothing slipped past her. One cool brow arched from the shadowed booth, her glass cradled in fingers pale as carved ice.

“So,” she said, voice smooth as frost, “the human found the door.”

Cassie’s grip tightened in mine. Our rings flared—heat up my arm, a jolt of nerves she buried a heartbeat later in iron.

Kess tipped her glass, sly grin unfurling. “Took long enough.”

I groaned and towed Cassie over before they could gather steam. “Don’t start,” I warned, sliding into the booth. “She’s with me.”

“That’s the point,” Naomi said, eyes flicking to Cassie and back to me like a knife checking its edge.

Cassie sat straighter, every line sharpened, and met Naomi’s stare head-on. Through the ring, her resolve locked into place like forged steel: I’m not backing down.

The corner of my mouth betrayed me. Saints, she was impossible. And perfect.

Kess leaned in, chin on her hand, mischief bright in her eyes. “So when were you going to tell us you finally tied yourself to someone?”

“‘Tied?’” Cassie’s laugh came silk over a blade. “I heard Mira cooks better than anyone in this city. Maybe I’m the one who tied her down.”

The ring flared and I choked on my drink.

Naomi’s lips curved—razor-thin, deliberate. “Careful,” she murmured, frost settling over stone. “Mira isn’t a prize. She’s fire. Mishandle her, and you burn.”

Cassie didn’t blink. She leaned in, eyes glinting. “Good thing I don’t mind the heat.”

The air went tight. For a heartbeat, the whole tavern listened.

Then Kess threw her head back and laughed, low and wicked. “Oh, I like her.”

Naomi let the stare linger one more measured beat, then tipped a single nod. “We’ll see.”

Warmth pulsed along the ring—nerves still fluttering under Cassie’s stubborn blaze. I couldn’t stop the smile that wanted out.

Kess twirled her glass, liquid shadow catching chandelier light. “So, rich girl,” she drawled at Cassie, “what’s the most dangerous thing you did before Mira dragged you into our mess?”

Cassie arched a brow, lounging like the question barely grazed her. “Other than surviving cheer tryouts with a fractured ankle?” She cut me a sideways look, smirk tilting smug. “Oh right—there was the time I beat Mira for Homecoming.”

I sputtered. “That was rigged.”

Naomi’s mouth twitched; Kess cackled. “Saints, Mira, did you actually lose to her?”

“She cheated,” I muttered, glaring. “And I’m still bitter.”

“You’re just mad everyone voted for me because I can walk in heels without looking like a newborn deer,” Cassie said, all teeth.

The ring buzzed—warmth tinged with laughter—and even Naomi’s lip betrayed the smallest quirk.

“Fine,” I grumbled, folding my arms. “Maybe I lost. Once. But—”

“But you still fell in love with me,” Cassie finished, tone soft as velvet, sure as a verdict.

Silence snapped over the table. Naomi’s gaze cut to me; Kess nearly dropped her glass, then whistled low.

Heat climbed my neck; the ring sparked wild between us. “Don’t sound so smug,” I muttered.

She leaned close, breath ghosting my ear. “I can’t help it when it’s true.”

Kess slapped the table, laughing until the booth shook. “I like her even more. She’s got claws.”

Naomi’s cool, dissecting stare returned to Cassie. “Talk is easy,” she said, frost-fine. “Mira’s heart isn’t a toy.”

Under the table, Cassie’s fingers found mine—firm, steady. The ring flared; her thought lit clear in my head: I know. And I won’t let it be.

Something subtle eased in Naomi’s shoulders. She leaned back, took a measured sip, and let the matter rest—for now.

Kess, of course, couldn’t let the tension simmer without stirring the pot. She leaned forward, eyes glittering with mischief. “Alright then. If the human wants to prove herself—truth or dare?”

Her nails clicked against her glass. “Truth or dare, Cass?”

Cassie didn’t blink. “Dare.”

“Ohhh, bold,” Kess drawled, grin wolfish. She cut me a look. “Then kiss our princess like you mean it. Right here. Let’s see if you’re worth her time.”

My jaw dropped. Heat climbed my neck. “Kess—”

Cassie was already turning, like she’d been waiting for the excuse. Her palm slid up, warm against my jaw, thumb brushing my cheekbone. The ring flared—sharp, molten—and her determination hit me straight through the tether. No half-measures. She was going to stake her claim.

And then she kissed me.

Gods.

Her mouth crashed into mine, firm and unapologetic, coaxing and conquering in the same breath. I gasped; she took it, deepening, tongue sweeping like she owned the air I needed. Citrus clung to her—bright, biting—threading through the sweetness of her skin.

My fire broke rank. Heat shimmered under my skin, ribboning up my arms, answering the pull of her like a tide to moonlight. The lights dipped; smoke curled tighter; Cassie only pressed closer, relentless.

Through the bond it thundered—want, fierce; defiance, daring the room to argue; and beneath it all, the gut-deep truth: mine.

I melted and burned. Fingers in her hair, dragging her closer, spine arching like I could fuse us if I tried hard enough. The world narrowed to lips, breath, the tiny sound she made when I bit back.

When she finally eased away, we were both panting. My lips tingled; my pulse galloped. She didn’t go far—forehead resting against mine, that wicked, breathless smirk curving her mouth.

“That good enough for you?” she tossed over her shoulder, voice hoarse and steady, daring Kess—or Naomi—to speak.

The tavern had gone silent. Even the enchanted jazz held its breath.

Kess let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Well damn.”

Naomi’s gaze, though, sharpened to steel, narrowing like a blade unsheathed.

I tried to nudge Cassie back, half-laughing, half-mortified. She only tightened her hold and stole another quick, taunting kiss at the corner of my mouth.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, breathless, tasting citrus and sin.

Her grin was pure trouble. “Face it, Firefly. You like it.”

Heat punched straight through me—and judging by the twin chokes across the table, they’d heard the name.

“Firefly, huh?” Kess drawled, smirk wicked as she stretched the word.

Naomi’s brow arched, slow and lethal. “Cute. That make you her moth?”

Cassie didn’t flinch. She lounged back like she hadn’t just branded me in front of two of the most dangerous people I knew.

Me? I wanted to sink through the floor. My cheeks burned hotter than my magic.

Kess laughed, delighted. Naomi kept watching Cassie, gaze sharp enough to cut glass.

Cassie tipped her chin, smug as a queen. “Yeah. She’s mine.”

Naomi leaned in, voice gone quiet and dangerous. “What’s the worst thing you’ve seen Mira do—when you could have walked away. And you didn’t.”

The music thinned, the room listening.

Cassie didn’t waver. Her hand found mine beneath the table; our rings sparked a pulse of heat. “Lumenfeast,” she said.

My chest tightened; fire stirred low and hot at the memory.

Cassie’s voice held steady. “She was ready to burn Emberhall to the ground. The air itself was catching flame, the whole hall trembling with it. Everyone froze—even Seara, even Tharion. I wasn’t afraid.”

Her fingers laced harder with mine, anchoring. “I walked into the fire and took her hand. I stayed until it choked itself out. Until she could breathe.”

Her gaze flicked to me, unblinking. “That’s when I knew. She could reduce us all to ash, and I still wouldn’t run. I’ll be the one who holds her. I’m her Firebreak.”

The word hit like a strike to the ribs—hot, raw—splitting something open in my chest.

Naomi watched her for a long breath. No softness—yet—but weight gathered behind the stare, the first tug of respect.

Kess let out a low whistle, smirk tugging. “Well, Firefly. Your human isn’t just pretty teeth and sharper comebacks. Girl walked into your inferno and walked out with you.”

Heat climbed my throat; for once, I didn’t hide it.

Kess tipped her glass, grin sharpening. “Bold speech. But tell me, sweetheart—” her eyes cut to Cassie, “—was it Mira’s terrifying wrath that made you stay, or the way she looks when she’s about to set the room on fire?”

“Gods, Kess,” I groaned, palms to my face. “Can you not—”

“Oh, I can,” she purred, eyes wicked. “Come on, Firefly, you’re glowing. Don’t pretend you don’t like hearing it.”

Cassie’s mouth curved into that infuriating little grin that always knocks the air out of me. She leaned in, lips brushing my ear—quiet enough for only me, though both of them watched every breath I took.

“Face it, Firefly,” she murmured, smug and low. “You like it.”

My stomach swooped; heat raced my spine. Of course Naomi’s brows lifted—razor-sharp—catching the slip.

“Well,” she drawled, slicing through the charge, “that explains a few things.”

Kess barked a laugh, delighted. “Oh, that’s rich. Firefly. Gods above, Mira, you’ve gone soft.”

I shot them my fiercest glare, cheeks burning hotter than anything I could summon. “One more word and I’ll set this table on fire.”

Cassie only smirked wider, clinking her glass to mine like she’d won a war.

The laughter came easy—dagger-sharp and warm as wine. Banter snapped and sparked: Kess lounging smug; Naomi’s dry cuts; Cassie firing back with that impossible grin. For a heartbeat, I could breathe here.

Then the tavern shifted.

No slam, no shout. Just a hush rolling low as smoke. The horn’s croon thinned, haunted. Words started carrying farther than they should.

“…one of the Ravenrest kids…”

“…gone two days now…”

“…same as last week—another school…”

“…the Shroud.”

The name slid cold along my spine. My stomach twisted; heat coiled too fast under my skin. I forced a laugh—too bright, too sharp—and tipped my glass like nothing had changed.

Naomi’s attention snapped to me. Too perceptive. Too knowing. Her gaze pinned like a hawk catching a flicker.

Under the table, Cassie’s hand found mine—cool, steady. Our rings sparked warm. The fire in my chest stuttered, then anchored.

I breathed. I smiled. I looked at anything but the shadows collecting at the room’s edges.

Naomi moved first. Of course she did. One cold look and she was slicing through haze toward the booth where the whispers started; Kess followed, lazy smile in place, fingers hovering near the knife at her thigh.

Cassie tugged me after them. Every instinct screamed to put her behind me.

The figure in the booth leaned back as we approached—skin like bone, lips stained crimson, eyes filmed red through the haze. Threadbare finery, as if he’d dressed for a feast and never left. Copper-sweet laced the air until I tasted it. Vampire.

Naomi didn’t flinch. She bent, voice smooth and lethal. “Say it again.”

His mouth curled, a single fang catching light. “Another child. Ravenrest Heights. Three nights past.” Glass dragged over velvet.

Cassie’s fingers clenched mine; the tether throbbed once, hot with fear and fury.

“Not the first,” he went on, tongue slicking his lip. “Hollow High last week. Others before. Always students. Always young.”

Naomi’s gaze carved sharper. “How.”

“Veil tears,” he purred. “Silk ripped open. Rip-portals pulled by veiltech. You can smell it before it splits—the air burns wrong. They vanish into the tear and do not return.”

The lanternlight faltered. Smoke pressed lower. Heat coiled in my gut, begging to break loose.

By the time Naomi and Kess slid back into our booth, the four of us were bent close, voices hushed beneath the jazz and murmurs.

Naomi’s jaw was granite. “If the Shroud has veiltech strong enough to rip the Veil, this isn’t random. They’re hunting.”

Cassie stiffened at my side. The ring flared, carrying her fear and fury straight into me.

“We can’t just let this go,” Kess murmured, sly grin gone. “Not when they’re targeting your school, Firefly.”

I dragged in a breath, looked at Cassie — and everything in me rebelled. “Then we investigate. But Cassie—” My throat burned. “You’re not coming.”

Her head snapped toward me, eyes like winter steel. “The hell I’m not.”

“You’re mortal,” I bit out, harsher than I meant. “I can’t lose you, Cass. I won’t risk it.”

Her hand crushed mine under the table, grip iron. “I am in this whether you like it or not, Mira Quinveil. I am your consort. You are my wife. And by your side is the only place I will ever be.”

The ring between us ignited, thrumming like a second heartbeat. For one breathless instant, I swore the whole tavern felt the vow ripple out.

I wanted to argue. To wrap her in wards and walls. But Cassie only leaned closer, eyes daring me to fight her.

“Fine,” I whispered, the word a surrender. “But you don’t leave my sight. Not for a second.”

Cassie’s grin — sharp, stubborn, devastating — broke through the smoke like sunlight. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Firefly.”

The tavern’s golden haze dimmed into something sharper, laughter thinning until the weight of whispered news pressed on every table. Ours leaned close, a huddle forged in fire and shadow.

Naomi’s voice cut low, steady as stone. “If the Shroud is tearing holes in the Veil, they’ll aim where the ripples won’t raise alarms. Schools. Places no one questions until it’s too late.”

Kess drummed her fingers against her glass. “Which means Ravenrest is the perfect hunting ground. We’re already inside. We can watch, listen. Figure out who’s sniffing around.”

Cassie didn’t flinch, didn’t let go of my hand under the table. “Then we watch together. None of us walks alone.”

The ring sparked between us, warmth searing up my arm — not a fight, not defiance. Just certainty.

Naomi’s gaze lingered on her, sharp as ever, before she gave a single short nod. “Fine. But if you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures.”

Cassie met her stare without hesitation. “I don’t do half-measures.”

Kess’s grin returned, slow and sly, like she’d been waiting for that answer. “I like her.”

Something inside me uncoiled, just a little.

Plans took shape in hushed tones — shifts to watch the halls, signals if anything felt wrong, cover stories ready in case the Watchers asked questions. By the time plates sat empty and glasses drained, the fire was already lit: fragile, dangerous, necessary.

When I looked around that circle — Naomi’s steel, Kess’s spark, Cassie’s unshakable grip in mine — it didn’t feel like a tavern table anymore. It felt like the start of something bigger.