Page 12

Lucien’s been in a mood for two days straight. A capital-M, terrifying mood, which in Lucien-speak means he’s been stomping around the house like a walking thundercloud, snapping at everyone, looking like he wants to throw us off a cliff. He yelled at Elias and me this morning for existing too loudly, which is impressive considering I was literally just whistling.

So naturally, the moment he stormed off to his room, Elias and I exchanged one look across the kitchen table, and I knew. War.

I didn’t even have to say it out loud—Elias had already grabbed a fistful of pebbles before I made it outside, tossing them at Luna’s window like some tragic idiot in a romance play. Except I’m not tragic. I’m a menace. And I don’t play fair.

The third pebble hit glass, and before she could yell at me, I hissed, "C’mon, princess. Field trip." She scowled down at me, hair messy and adorable, and I swear I felt something rattle loose in my ribcage.

Now, hours later, we’ve dragged her out into the meadow behind the house—the one Riven cleared with his bare hands because apparently he likes manual labor—and Elias and I are halfway through constructing the ugliest, most cursed-looking kite the Hollow’s ever seen.

Luna’s sitting in the grass, legs tucked under her, hair falling over one shoulder as she watches us with a mix of fondness and very justified suspicion. She keeps glancing back at the house like she expects Lucien to come charging out, sword drawn, ready to murder us all for daring to touch grass.

"I can’t believe you made me sneak out for this," she mutters as I wrestle with the thin strips of wood.

"Correction," I say, sticking my tongue between my teeth as I tie two sticks together with an alarming amount of enthusiasm, "we didn’t make you do anything. You chose this life."

Elias, flat on his back beside us, holding the string and not helping at all, snorts. "Yeah, Luna. You picked this disaster."

"Regretting everything," she deadpans.

I glance over at her, grinning wide enough to show teeth. "You wound me, darling. I only commit mild crimes against craftsmanship."

The kite looks like it’s seen better centuries. One of the corners droops dangerously, and I’m fairly certain I used the wrong kind of string, but I’m too invested now. I can feel Luna’s eyes on me like a flame against my skin, like she’s pretending she’s unimpressed but she’s absolutely cataloging every stupid, ridiculous thing I do.

"You’re gonna love it when it flies," I say, tossing her a wink. "This baby’s got character."

Elias sits up finally, rubbing the back of his neck, and chimes in, "Character? , that thing’s a crime against gravity."

"I’m a crime against gravity," I shoot back. "You’ve seen me fall down stairs."

Elias leans in toward her conspiratorially. "You should’ve seen him last week. Fell off the roof trying to hang a jar of honey in Ambrose’s window. Said it was for ambiance."

"It was," I defend. "Sticky ambiance."

Luna groans, tipping her head back to the sky, and I swear it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. "You two are chaos incarnate."

I finish tying off the last knot on the kite and glance over at her, voice dropping just enough to be real. "You know, Luna… no one’s ever had as much fun with me as you do."

And it’s true. The girls before her? They laughed when I made them. She laughs because she can’t help it. And that? That’s everything.

The wind isn’t exactly perfect for flying a kite. Too wild, too unpredictable, but I’ve never let something as boring as common sense stop me.

Elias and I stand at opposite ends of the meadow now, the monstrosity of a kite—our crooked, patched-together disaster—held between us like it’s some sacred relic. Luna lounges in the grass, arms folded under her head, pretending not to watch, but I know she’s biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Her eyes flick to me when she thinks I’m not looking. She always watches me.

"Alright," Elias shouts, holding the end of the string. "Let’s get this piece of shit airborne."

"You wound me," I yell back, grinning like an idiot. "This is a masterpiece. A technological marvel."

"It’s held together with wishful thinking and twine, ."

"Exactly! It’s my magnum opus."

I take a running start, the kite jerking in my grip like a dying bird, wind slapping at the uneven edges. I shout over my shoulder, "On my signal, Elias!"

The wind howls through the trees. I lift the kite above my head and sprint across the field.

"NOW!"

Elias yanks the string, I throw the kite—and for a second, an actual second, it lifts. The thing wobbles skyward, soaring higher than I expected, its crooked frame slicing through the clouds.

"See!" I crow, spinning toward Luna. "What did I tell you?"

The kite lurches, jerks violently to the left, then nose-dives.

Straight into a tree.

"Shit!" I shout, already jogging toward it as the string snaps and the kite crumples halfway up the trunk like some broken-winged creature.

Elias is howling with laughter, falling backward into the grass. "Your magnum opus just committed suicide."

I glare up at the shredded remains caught in the branches, one bright pink strip fluttering like a flag of surrender.

"That was sabotage," I call back. "Clearly, the tree is against me."

"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.”

“.”

“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. “, 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.”

Luna chokes on a laugh, trying to hide it behind her hand. She’s so bad at pretending she’s not entertained by me. I see the curve of her lips, the way she’s trying not to grin, and it only makes me lean in harder.

“And,” I continue, counting on my fingers, “the wardrobe incident wasn’t even me. That was Elias.”

“I told you not to shove the damn goat in there,” Elias mutters under his breath.

“Technically, you bet me I wouldn’t. And okay, fine,” I sigh dramatically, flopping back onto the grass. “Maybe I did steal Lucien’s journal to doodle mustaches on all the old Sin Binder portraits. But in my defense, he keeps looking at them like they’re gonna give him answers, and honestly? A little facial hair never hurt anyone.”

Elias whistles low. “You also told that village kid that Ambrose could turn into a bear.”

I grin up at the sky. “That was public service. Kid should know what he’s dealing with.”

Luna finally loses the battle and snorts, shaking her head, strands of her hair falling across her cheek. She looks at me like I’m the world’s worst idea—and maybe her favorite one, too.

“So really,” I continue, lacing my fingers behind my head, “I don’t know why he’s so mad. I’m innocent.”

Elias throws a blade of grass at my face. “You’re a menace.”

“Correction,” I say, grinning at Luna now. “I’m delightful.”

And maybe that’s why Lucien’s so mad. Because every stupid thing I do, every prank, every fire and misstep—it’s all to make her laugh.

And I don’t even bother pretending otherwise.

"You know," I say, stretching my arms overhead like I haven’t just been scolded like a child, "if Lucien’s gonna ruin my perfect day of meadow mayhem, we might as well make getting back home interesting."

Elias groans, but I catch the spark in his eyes when he looks at me. "—"

"Race you back," I cut in, already grinning, the kind of grin that means trouble, the kind of grin that usually ends in something on fire.

"You want to race me?" she deadpans, crossing her arms. "When you cheat every time?"

"Baby," I say sweetly, "cheating is just creative strategy."

I don’t wait for permission. I’m already moving, shoving off the ground with enough force to scatter wildflowers, and then I twist, snap, drag magic across the soles of my boots. A pulse of kinetic energy ripples outward from me, kicking up petals, a gust of heated air that sends Elias swearing.

"You absolute little shit!" Elias shouts behind me, and then I hear it—the shift of power, time bending around him like it always does. His magic is subtle, dangerous, slow-motion lethal. The entire world hiccups, slows, except for him. And me. Because I know how to slip past it.

"Not fair!" I call over my shoulder, laughing breathlessly. "You can’t Time your way to the finish line!"

Without warning, I twist, yank magic through the bond I share with her, and sling her forward like a slingshot, sending her flying past both Elias and me, hair whipping behind her, her squeal sharp and delighted and furious.

"!" she shrieks, half laughing, half scolding, soaring ahead of us like she’s weightless.

Elias barrels forward, using his power like a goddamn cheat code, the ground sluggish beneath everyone but him. But I don’t care. I know how to play dirty. I snap my fingers, grab at the threads of kinetic force in the Hollow itself, and let the ground ripple under my feet, using the very bones of this place to throw me faster, harder.

"That’s illegal!" Elias calls, time catching in his voice like molasses.

"Everything I do is illegal!" I yell back, catching up to Luna, who’s still trying to slow her momentum without wiping out.

She shoots me a murderous look as I sidle up next to her, running backwards now because I’m an asshole and I want her to laugh again. "You’re the worst," she huffs.

I grin wider, bouncing backward, deliberately showing off. "But I’m your worst."

She lunges to shove me, but I’m faster, flipping sideways and tumbling once, twice, the magic thrumming through me like lightning in my veins. I land in a sprint, grinning so hard my face hurts.

By the time the house comes into view, the three of us are breathless, chaotic, a mess of laughter and curses and wild, reckless magic tearing at the edges of this world. And Lucien? He’s gonna lose his mind when he sees how much trouble we caused in five stupid minutes.

But right now, in this ridiculous race, in the way Luna’s smile cracks open like it belongs only to us, it’s perfect.

I throw one last pulse of kinetic energy under my feet, launching myself ahead—just because I can. And because I never, ever play fair.

Lucien’s sitting on the decrepit porch when we stumble back through the trees, his spine a straight line of disapproval, arms crossed like a warlord ready to call for executions. He doesn’t even blink when we come barreling out of the meadow like heathens.

Orin is next to him, lounging with a book in his lap, one brow arched like he’s already heard the entire disaster we’ve been up to without needing to see it.

I skid to a stop in front of them, breathing hard but grinning like I’ve won something.

Lucien doesn’t smile. He looks at me like I’m the worst thing he’s ever seen—and I should know, I’ve seen the worst things he’s ever seen.

"You’re not allowed to take her off the property again," he says without preamble, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

"Wow," I say, hands on my hips. "You’re really pulling the ‘Dad says no’ card right now?"

Lucien’s stare doesn’t waver. "You don’t take her off the premises. Not without me. Not again."

"It was a meadow," I argue, throwing a dramatic hand toward the treeline behind us. "There were flowers, butterflies. Elias almost got hit in the face by a bee. It was wholesome."

Elias snorts beside me. "A bee the size of a fist."

Orin closes his book with an audible snap. "You’re overreacting," he says mildly, but there’s something sharp under his voice, something deliberate, measured.

Lucien’s gaze flicks to him. "No, I’m not. You both know what’s out there."

"And yet," Orin murmurs, "all you see when you look at her is danger."

Luna shifts beside me, her arms folding, chin tilted up stubborn like she’s ready to start a fight she knows she’ll win. And me? I can’t let that happen without adding fuel to the fire.

"Maybe if you’d kissed her in the meadow instead of barking rules at us," I mutter under my breath, knowing damn well Lucien will hear me.

His jaw ticks. "Enough."

But I don’t shut up. I grin wider. "You’re gonna need a sign, you know. ‘No fun allowed.’ ‘No kites, no flirting, no kidnapping Luna for picnics.’ We could carve it into the porch."

Lucien looks like he wants to throw me into the void.

"You're exhausting," he says, voice sharp.

"You’re wound too tight," I volley back, nudging Elias with my elbow. "Back me up."

Elias, who’s been pretending not to care, mutters, "You’re a menace, ."

"Compliment accepted."

Lucien pushes off the porch railing like he’s two seconds from dragging me inside by the ear, but Orin’s gaze cuts to me before he can.

"Let them breathe," Orin says quietly, almost too quiet. "You can’t keep her locked in here."

And for once, I don’t have anything flippant to say, because I see it—the line of strain around Lucien’s mouth, the weight sitting heavy in his shoulders. He’s scared. Of this place. Of us. Of her.

But I’m not gonna say that out loud.

Not yet.

I flash him a grin instead, all teeth. "So that’s a no on the kite tournament then?"

Lucien’s sigh is the sound of a man already regretting every life choice that led to knowing me.

And I love it.