“Are you kidding? I haven’t had this much fun since I was for sure five! If this day never ends, I’ll be as happy as a pegasus riding a lightning cloud!” She’s spinning in a white gown, rose quartz stitched into the bodice and the faintest dusting of gold glimmering at the hem. It glows against her soft pink hair—a mirage.
“I agree with Sakura,” Nalaka confirms softly. “I didn’t think I’d ever find friends who cared. I’ve tried trusting people before… It didn’t exactly end well.”
That stops me cold.
“I’m sorry,” I say, glancing between them. “You’re right. Iamhaving a good time. And I really am grateful for you.” I flop down into a soft cloud of tulle and fabric, dizzy, sinking between Nalaka and Vanessa, draping my arms over their shoulders. It’s awkward and way too tight, but it’s real. Then I groan, full-on drama, letting the alcohol reduce any filters to dust. “But Istillwant to look better than Heather. Is that soterrible?”
Van arches an eyebrow. “You mean the one sniffing around Kai?”
“Yep.”
“I want to make Heather jealous too,” Nalaka says quietly, and we all freeze.
“You?” we say in unison, turning to stare. She nods, eyes a little far off.
“We grew up together. She was my first friend. For a while, my only friend. But as we got older, things changed. I had duties, expectations…Being Elveron’s Princess meant I had to be perfect. And when it got hard, when I needed her most, she walked away.” She pauses, voice heavy. “She leaned into everything that separated us. I’m a royal elf. She’s the alpha’s daughter. Two different worlds, and she made sure I knew which side she stood on.” Silence falls over our little circle.
“All right, how do we make her jealous?” Vanessa asks, eyes sharp and determined.
“Avilyna needs to find the perfect dress,” Nalaka announces. “The kind that makes Kai drool the moment he sees her and makes Heather die of jealousy. Pretty things have always been her weakness.”
“Well, she’s ugly on the inside, that’s for sure,” I mutter, catching the slight stiffness from my friend. “But what about you, Nalaka? How doyoumake her jealous?” I nudge her gently with my elbow, wanting her to know she deserves to shine too.
“I… I don’t know,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.
“Simple,” Vanessa says, leaning smoothly across me to give Nalaka’s thigh a firm squeeze. “I’ll be your hot date.” She punctuates it with a wicked smile. Nalaka’s pointed ears flush pink.
“Ye-yeah… That could work too.”
Before I can tease her a little, Sabrina’s voice rings out, bright and full of pride.
“All right, ladies, time for the grand reveal. I must say, I think I’ve outdone myself. Each gown is a work of art, but when I know my canvas, my paintings truly come to life. Miss, if you’ll follow me.” She gestures toward the changing room.
“Oh, please, call me Avilyna,” I say, rising unsteadily to my feet. “And,hic, might I just say, your boutique’s… Incredible. So young, and already running such a successful place? You must be, like, really proud or something.” Sabrina’s cheeks flush a soft blush against her warm, tanned skin.
“Thank you. It was my grandmother’s store. I was named after her, and I took over after my mother passed away.” Her voice wavers for a heartbeat, then steadies. “But yes, I’m proud. Proud to keep our legacy alive. These are hard times… Netherworld may try to snuff out every light, but as long as even one remains,” her tone sharpens, steel beneath the softness, “They haven’t won.”
Her words sink deeply, a quiet jolt to my chest. She isn’t a soldier on the battlefield, but she fights in her own way, with thread and needle. With stubborn hope, I can’t help but feel humbled.
“No,” I say quietly, meeting her eyes. “Thank you.”
She looks momentarily surprised by my sincerity, but smiles warmly as she hands me the red gown, then closes the curtain. Accepting it, the fabric is cool and silken in my hands.
“If you need any help,” Sabrina calls softly, “just ring the bell. A pixie will come to assist you.”
50
Kai
THE SILVER FANG
I swear to God,Wyll is worse than a woman. Sometimes I think he’d be happier running a quiet little coffee shop, fussing over pastries and hand-painted mugs. But then, just as suddenly, he snaps back into himself, and I’m reminded that this gentler side of Wyll… It’s a privilege. It’s the version of him that would have existed all the time if the nightmares hadn’t been following us from the start.
After he patches me up and makes sure I eat, as the good friend that he is, I know what I have to do: find her. I’m done pretending she isn’t mine, done running away because of the possibility of losing her. At this point, I’ve made peace with the danger. Hell, it’s been stitched into her life since the day she was born. And if trouble’s going to keep circling her like a shadow, then who’s better to face it than the fool who’s obsessed with her? The one who's more than willing to lose himself in the depths of her. No matter how dark, no matter how far.
We finally reach the heart of the market. The merchants are beginning to pack up their stalls, wrapping their goods in worn cloth, preparing to disappear into the rhythm of yet another endless tomorrow. The streets glow under the fading blush of sunset; its lingering heat turns patches of snow into puddles.Though not enough to dull the unforgiving bite of the cold wind coming from the mountain.
The road is bathed in soft pink and gold, distracting us from the stench. Almost concealing the hunger and sickness, the quiet suffering tucked in alleyways and corners too narrow for light to reach. Our horses move at a slow pace, weaving between carts and wagons. The taverns flicker to life, and bars start to spill laughter into the streets. The scent of roasted meat and warm bread wafts through the cooling air, and inns turn their lanterns on. Each doorway, a small promise of warmth and momentary escape in exchange for some coins.
