Page 5

And I push past him again, this time without looking back, because I’m done. Theo’s just lucky they aren’t here. Because while I’ll warn him once,theydon’t believe in second chances.

I unload the cart with clinical precision, tins lined like soldiers, croissants nestled against the rosemary, espresso beside the muffins Silas will pretend he didn’t ask for and devour anyway.

The cashier’s a bored teenager with half-lidded eyes and glitter on her eyelids. She scans without looking up, the beep-beep-beep rhythm steady.

And then a shift in the air. The brush of heat on my back. I don’t have to turn. I know.

He slides in behind me with a cart that’s offensively light, a single loaf of artisanal bread, a fancy bottle of water, two apples, and a block of cheese so pretentious it might’ve had its passport.

“Wow,” he drawls, leaning forward just enough that I can feel the weight of him without touching. “Either you’ve got a serious dinner party planned or you’re feeding an army.”

I don’t look at him. “Still not interested.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and the smile in his voice is thick enough to choke on. “I’m notaskinganymore. Just making conversation.”

“Then try someone else,” I say, cool and sharp, pulling a reusable bag from the cart like I’m drawing a blade.

The cashier glances up, eyes flicking between us. She’s not sure if she should say something. I give her a look. She doesn’t.

“Just seems like a shame,” Theo says behind me, unfazed. “Someone like you, moving through a store like you’ve got a crown under your hoodie. Gorgeous. Efficient.A little bit scary. Total smoke show.”

I glance at him. Just once. “You think this is working?”

“I think you’re talking to me now,” he says, and smiles like that’s a victory.

I lean in slightly, voice low enough that only he can hear it. “I could call one of them right now. Just one. I wouldn’t even have to say your name. He’d find you in minutes.”

He exhales a soft laugh. “Jesus. Is that supposed to turn me off?”

I turn back to the cashier, hand her a card. “It should.”

He drops an apple onto the conveyor belt with theatrical slowness, like he’s got nowhere to be and all day to follow me around.

“Just saying,” he adds, tapping the edge of his cart, “if you everdoget tired of being worshipped by your harem of imaginary boyfriends, I’m great at French toast and even better in bed.”

I slide the last bag into my cart and smile, real and razor-edged.

“Careful,” I say. “You’re flirting with the girl who feeds devils.”

And I walk away. Because the only thing hungrier than a man like Theo… …is what’s waiting for me at home.

Luna

The driveway curves like a serpent, winding past the wild hedges and tall iron fencing we had installed not for aesthetic, but for quiet. For distance. For privacy.

When the kids came, we left the academy grounds. It was Lucien’s call, but I saw the way Orin stood behind him, silent agreement laced with centuries of foresight. They wanted the children raised with trees, with open sky, and something resembling normalcy. Or as close as you get when your family includes Envy crafting smoke illusions to get out of homework and Lust accidentally seducing the nanny.

We built this house together. Every brick pressed down with power and need and the kind of love that doesn’t ask permission. A fortress disguised as a home. Big enough for sixteen bodies, but still haunted by the weight of everything we've survived to reach this point.

I turn the wheel with one hand, the other still cold from the grocery store’s frostbitten air, and bring the car to a slow stop in front of the front steps. The bags in the backseat shift like restless children.

And there he is. Elias. Leaning against the porch column like he practiced it. Hoodie halfway unzipped, jeans low on his hips like he forgot to care, one sneaker untied in a way that screamssnarky asshole who hasn’t changed since 2002.

But the moment he sees me, he straightens.

Too fast.

And then, he panics. Fumbles a hand through his hair like he forgot it was attached to his skull, then immediately pulls his phone from his pocket like he was busy and not waiting like a lovesick idiot with a crush.