Page 37

“You’re suffocating her,” I hear him say to Riven, voice low, and for once not laced in flirtation. “Maybe back off before she starts to pull away.”

“Don’t start,” Riven bites out.

I turn to face both of them. “No. Let him. Becausesomeoneneeds to say it.”

Their gazes land on me, twin storms threatening different types of destruction.

I hold steady.

“I am not glass. I am not yours to guard or your obligation to protect. Youshareme, because I chose you. Because I continue to choose you. But if you think shadowing me like I’m one flirt away from betraying everything we’ve built makes me feel safe, you’re wrong. It makes me feel like you don’t know me at all.”

Riven flinches. Just slightly. But enough.

Caspian’s expression shifts, barely, but I catch it: a flicker of guilt behind the usual smirk.

Good.

Because I’m not letting Theo manipulate me.

But I sure as hell won’t let the men Idolove try to cage me under the guise of keeping me safe. Not now. Not ever.

Silas blocks the doorway like he’s been waiting his whole damn life for this moment, arms spread, one foot planted on the opposite wall like he’s modeling chaos for a cologne ad that smells like fire and forbidden choices. His shirt is buttoned unevenly, again, and there’s glitter in his hair. Not metaphorical glitter. Actual glitter. And I havequestions.

He grins, bright and feral. “Oh, thank the gods,you’rethe one I needed.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Exactly why I need you.”

I attempt to sidestep him, but he mirrors me like some cursed mirror maze, arm flinging out dramatically. “Emergency.”

“Is someone bleeding?”

“Emotionally? Always.”

“Silas.”

“Okay, fine. But emotionally, I'm spiraling, and thatdoescount. Probably.”

I cock a brow. “What do you want?”

He straightens, then wilts. “I lost the soul crystal.”

I blink. “We don’t have a soul crystal.”

He looks genuinely confused. “Are you sure? I feel like we should. We have a demon cat with three eyes and a cursed blender that screams at two a.m., butnosoul crystal? Feels like poor planning.”

“You stopped me for this?”

“I also might have used Lucien’s cologne to spritz the upstairs bathroom and now there's... a situation.”

I stare.

He clasps his hands dramatically. “Please. If I go alone, he’ll vaporize me and salt the ashes.”

“Is this about the glitter?”

He looks insulted. “No. That was art.”