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"It’s not the tree," Elias shouts, voice breathless with laughter. "It’s gravity. And physics. And every other law of nature."

I glance back at Luna, who’s now sitting up, grinning despite herself, chin tucked against her shoulder like she’s trying not to outright laugh at me. She doesn’t succeed.

I throw my hands up dramatically. "You know what? It’s fine. I didn’t want a working kite anyway. Functional things are overrated."

The tree creaks ominously as the wind tears another strip from my poor, broken kite, sending it spiraling down to the ground in tatters.

"At least it died doing what it loved," Elias adds solemnly. "Making you look like an idiot."

I point at him without looking. "You’re next, Dain. I’m making you a kite shaped like your stupid, snarky face."

I start stalking toward the tree, already scheming how I can salvage this mess or make it worse—because that’s who I am. And there’s no way I’m letting this scene end without dragging Elias up that tree with me.

Lucien appears like a damn shadow at my back—one minute, it’s all wildflowers and crooked bits of kite string tangled around my wrists, the next, the temperature in the meadow drops like we’ve summoned winter itself.

His voice cuts across the breeze, sharp enough to flay. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I don’t even flinch. I roll my eyes toward the sky and glance at Elias, who’s now sitting cross-legged next to Luna, chewing lazily on a blade of grass like we’re the most harmless, innocent creatures that’ve ever existed.

“Building character,” I call without looking at him, hands on my hips as I admire the twisted ruin of our kite dangling from the branches like a hanged man. “She needed fresh air.”

Luna’s sprawled in the grass like a goddess thrown from the stars, and she snorts at me, brushing a leaf from her hair. “You kidnapped me.”

“Semantics,” I murmur.

But Lucien’s gaze isn’t on me. It’s pinned to her, like it always is, carved from ice and rage, his jaw tight enough to snap bone. "You shouldn't be out here."

I raise both brows, biting back a grin because I know how to twist the knife. “You’re angry because I took her out of the house? Really? Look around, Lucien." I stretch my arms wide, turning in a slow circle. "Meadow. Flowers. Butterflies. The only danger here is if she steps on a bee.”

Lucien’s glare sharpens, deadly, like he wants to drag me through the dirt. “There are Sin Binders hunting this realm,” he snaps. “You think they care about butterflies? You think they'd hesitate to slit her throat?”

“Relax,” I say, forcing lightness into my tone. “She’s got two of her favorite idiots with her. Nobody’s getting past us.”

Lucien's mouth tightens like he’s swallowing back something uglier. His hands curl into fists at his sides, and I watch him fighting the pull, the part of him that wants to wrap her in chains and lock her away somewhere she can’t get hurt. I know, because it’s the same pull inside me. Only I don’t choke on it—I feed it candy and bad jokes and kite strings until it turns into something she can live with.

Elias sighs dramatically beside Luna, falling back into the grass. "He’s in a mood."

Lucien cuts him a look sharp enough to gut a man.

And me—because I never know when to stop—I grin and lean into it, lazy, insolent. “What’s got you so pissed off, Lucien?” I tease. “Is it the kite? Because honestly, you should’ve seen it. It was glorious.”

Luna snorts again under her breath, her eyes flicking between the three of us, knowing damn well I’m poking the bear.

Lucien doesn’t answer. He just growls low in his throat, voice vibrating like cracked stone. “Pick up your shit. Get back to the house. Now.”

I flash him a smile bright enough to blister. “You’re no fun.”

“Silas.”

“Fine,” I sigh, scooping up the wrecked remains of my masterpiece like I’m gathering the pieces of a dream. “But next time, you’re flying the damn kite.”

Lucien storms off like he’s got a damn stormcloud lodged up his ass, stomping back toward the house like he can muscle the whole Hollow into submission. And I’m left in the meadow, holding the snapped spine of my beautiful, tragic kite, looking at Elias and Luna like the world has betrayed me.

I drop dramatically onto the grass, flinging an arm over my eyes. “I don’t get it,” I mutter, voice muffled against my forearm. “Why’s he always mad at me? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Elias lets out a snort so sharp I could cut myself on it. “Silas, you lit the pantry on fire last week.”

“That was an accident,” I argue, lifting my head to squint at him. “The whiskey practically begged me to see if it was flammable.”