Page 95 of Eternal

AZRA

“Lover You Should Come Over” by Jeff Buckley

Present

Z anae left me in the penthouse. She thanked me for today, like I wasn’t the one who should be grateful. Like she didn’t just show me how to be a person for a few hours, then came the texts.

From the pakhan, and from the Don.

Elijah

Thank you, Voron. See you tonight at the gala.

Nikolai

Hope you got yourself an outfit. I’ve got some people I want you to meet.

Not stressful at all.

I took a shower, let the water wash the day off my skin, and slipped into the emerald dress Zanae picked. She said it was perfect, so I believed her.

I poured a glass of wine, because that’s what people do when they’re getting ready, right?

But it made me think of another time. When I had to look pretty to be destroyed. When I needed more than wine to survive the night.

Vodka maybe, whiskey, if we’re being honest, or both, music hums through the penthouse, Jeff Buckley’s voice dripping through the speakers like honey over an open wound.

Too young to hold on… and too old to just break free and run…

I hum along, my hands work on autopilot, doing my makeup like a mask I’ve worn a thousand times, liner, mascara, and a little blush to fake softness.

And then I see her.

In the mirror.

She’s broken, sad, and lonely. Unworthy .

She’s still here, is she beautiful?

The girl who thought she’d grow up to be a princess. The one who wanted to dance in school halls, spin rhythmically, pretend the world was gentle?

She loved music once. Before it stopped being art, before it became an escape.

Then came the scars, the dark circles, the weight that vanished with every addiction, every night she didn’t come back whole.

She isn’t a princess, she never was, she’s ruined. But she’s me , and I have to carry her to the gala.

It’s never over… my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder…

I’m done now, I can finally go.

I pull up to the venue, kill the engine, and yank off the helmet, the air’s cool against my skin, and my hair’s a mess.

“ Fuck ,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head as I run my fingers through the curls.

Some settle, most don’t, it’s okay I don’t care.

I let out a long breath, pushing the helmet onto the bike’s seat before straightening up. Not very smart of me, driving like this when I’m tipsy, but who’s gonna stop me? Vik? He’d yell and probably steal the keys for good, but he’s not here, and I’m alone in this city.

It’s just a little buzz anyway, enough to make everything feel lighter but not enough to actually lose control.

I smooth down the dress, check my bike one last time, and walk toward the entrance.

That’s when I spot them outside.

The four of them, all gathered together, just standing there. The Don, the Emira, the Pakhan, and Bennedito.

And there’s someone else, a woman with purple hair. She’s leaning back against the stone pillar, laughing at something Nikolai just said.

I take another breath, adjust my hair again even though it’s hopeless. Screw it.

“Voron!” The Don’s voice is low but warm, the way he always says my name like he’s about to make a joke. “You came.”

I offer a small smile. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”

Ben chuckles and nods. “Glad to see you here. You look amazing.”

The woman with purple hair extends her hand, a small grin pulling at the corners of her lips. “Hi, I’m Brian,” she says. “Nice to finally meet you.”

I shake her hand, surprised by how warm and firm it feels, and the Pakhan nods in my direction. “Thank you for today,” he says simply.

I give him a small nod, acknowledging him, then turn to Zanae, she’s watching me, already smiling. “The dress suits you perfectly.”

“Thanks, you picked the perfect one,” I mutter, grateful for the compliment.

Her smile widens as she gestures toward the entrance. “Let’s go inside.”

I follow them, slipping into the crowd as they lead the way. Let the party begin, I guess.