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Her fingers pick at the thick gold bangle she wears just north of her elbow. “Do you know how they cultivate a rose?” Her gaze locks on mine. “It’s an acquired skill that takes lots of practice. Ideally, you’d start in early spring and begin at the base, cutting away all that’s died over the winter. You even cut away some of the tender new bits, which only seems cruel until you understand that the point is to shape the rose, to train it to stop growing inward toward its base and to grow outward instead. The rose is a powerful symbol of so many things. The original wild rose has five petals, which some relate to a pentagram or five-pointed star. It’s also a symbol for both life and death.”

“I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“I know,” she says. “Which is why I’m telling you. You wouldn’t be the first at Gray Wolf to chase after the magick of the rose, but I’m hoping you won’t end up like the last.”

My stomach churns. My pulse pounds so hard, it makes my ears throb. “Elodie—do you know something about what happened to Song, or even Anjou?” I ask.

Elodie just looks at me, not blinking, not flinching—just a steady, blunt gaze.

“And…do you happen to know something about Freya?”

“What I know is this: be careful who you choose to align yourself with. And if I were you, I’d tread a little more carefully than you have so far.”

“You’re freaking me out,” I say. “But then, I get the feeling that’syourintent.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “But feel free to add this to the number of times I’ve gone out of my way to help you in just a handful of days.”

Her words take me aback. “Sounds like you’re keeping score.” I study her face.

“Look, I get that I have a lot to make up for. But while I’m willing to do what it takes to get you to change your mind about me, I can’t do it alone. In order for a peace treaty to work, there needs to be compromise. It can’t be one-sided.”

I’m about to reply when her gaze flits away from mine, landing in the vicinity of the doors that lead into the club. “I wonder who invited him?” she says. “Because it certainly wasn’t me.”

I follow her gaze to find Killian has just entered the room—and he’s heading straight for me.

39

Long before Killian can reach me, Elodie is gone.

“I have a theory,” he says, his gaze trailing after her. “That girl is secretly in love with me, and the fact that it’s unrequited brings her so much pain she can’t bear to be around me.”

“Another astonishing display of deeply penetrating insight.” I laugh.

Killian takes a bow, and when he rises, his swimming-pool eyes fix right on mine.

“So, is this your costume?” I gesture toward his loose-fitting white linen shirt, faded jeans with a hole in the left knee, and black velvet slip-ons with skulls and crossbones embroidered on the toes. “Louche playboy enjoying cocktails on the French Riviera?”

Killian balks. “Is that how you see me—as some disreputable, indolent, ne’er-do-well dilettante?” He clutches dramatically at his heart. “That hurts, Shiv. Truly. Thing is, I saw no need for a costume when my preferred timeline is standing right here, right now, next to you.”

“You need to stop,” I tell him, my cheeks growing heated. “You know I have a boyfriend, and still you insist.”

“What—I’m not allowed to tell you how much I enjoy being around you? That you’re the only one I like talking to in this whole bloody place?”

I roll my eyes. “Please,” I say. “Save it for Maisie.”

Killian laughs and takes a quick look around. “Is your boy here?” he asks.

I glance to where Braxton is still talking with Oliver and Finn—except now, they’re all looking our way.

Great.

Killian follows my gaze, then turns back to me. “Well, I guess that rules out a dance. Which is a shame because this happens to be one of my favorite songs.”

I cock an ear, trying to determine the score that’s playing in the background. “The Halcyon club remix of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 is one of your favorites?”

Killian nods. “Turns out, I’m not quite the philistine you pegged me for. Though I do like surprising you. That look you get on your face when—”

I lift a hand to stop him. “Can you just—”