Shopping with Rhea amounts to being bossed around an upscale menswear boutique while Draven offers sarcastic color commentary.
Rhea rifles through fabrics and cuts like she was born in a runway show. “She’s wearing deep evergreen velvet with gold accents,” she informs the tailor. “Off-the-shoulder, sweetheart neckline, slit up the left—no, Slade, you cannot see it. You’ll survive.”
I try to look unimpressed, but the truth is—my heart gives a sharp, anticipatory kick at the thought of Piper in a gown like that. Curves, velvet, gold against herskin—
Rhea snaps her fingers. “Eyes up, demon. Let’s get you something that won’t clash.”
She picks a black tux with a subtle evergreen sheen when the light hits it, paired with a dark satin tie and obsidian cufflinks etched with old sigils.
Draven nods, approving for once. “You’ll match without looking like an ornament.”
“Thank you, Draven,” I say dryly.
“He means that as a compliment!” Rhea beams. “This is perfect.”
I touch the ring box inside my pocket.Tomorrow.
Tomorrow at the Yule Ball, I will ask Piper Bellamy to be mine—not just by bond, but by vow, by name, by every realm that exists.
Rhea squeezes my arm. “She’s going to say yes,” she whispers. “She’s already there without even realizing it.”
I know. I feel it every time she looks at me like I’m something more than the monster shesummoned. Every time her magic curls around mine with quiet trust. Every time her breath catches when I touch her.
The bond hums, deep and steady. My future rests in a small velvet box in my pocket. And for the first time in my long life, the unknown does not frighten me.
We leave the boutique in good spirits—Rhea humming like she’s choreographing a wedding march already, Draven muttering about how sentimental mortals and their lovers make him feel old, and me… feeling something I haven’t let myself feel in centuries.
Hope.
The box in my pocket feels heavier now, not with dread but with promise. A future wrapped in velvet and dark gold.
Before we part, I step back into the tailor’s shop on the pretense of checking the tuxedo’s final alterations. Rhea raises an eyebrow, but she lets meslip inside alone. The tailor bows low when he recognizes me.
“It will be ready by morning, my lord,” he assures, smoothing the sleeve reverently. “Pressed, warded, and delivered to Miss Bellamy’s residence.”
“Perfect,” I say. “And the enchantments?”
“All set. It will react to her magic as well as yours.”
Good.
I need everything tomorrow to feel as if the realm itself is acknowledging my bond with Piper—even if she hasn’t said the words out loud yet.
When I step back outside, Rhea eyes me knowingly. “You’re nesting.”
I scowl. “Demons do not nest.”
Draven smirks. “You just checked your outfit three times in one hour.”
“Because tomorrow isimportant,” I say sharply.
“Oh, we know,” Rhea sing-songs.
I ignore both of them and teleport home—well, our home now, though Piper doesn’t quite realize it yet—and send her a message before I do anything else.
SLADE:Running errands. Be back by evening. Don’t lift anything heavy at the shop. And drink water.
Three dots appear almost instantly.
