And not ‘college kegger’ wild. I scan the room. The air hums with raw energy, buzzing with electricity. It’s packed with absurdly good-looking people. The kind that makes you wonder if there’s a secret modelling agency that only accepts you if you growl during the interview. And speaking of growling, most of them are giving wolf vibes and not metaphorically. We’re talking glowing eyes and the occasional flash of fur and fangs, way more controlled than my attacker.
Torches flicker around the yard, throwing just enough light to make the shadows dance and enough darkness to hide what you don’t want to see. Rock music blasts so loud it shakes the trees. In the middle of it all, there’s heat, tension, bodies close, and some a little too close. There’sdefinitelysomething primalgoing on here. Then, as if the universe wanted to hit a dramatic effect, a howl echoes in the distance.
As we move closer to the woods, the fire comes into view. Not some cozy camping flame, but a full-blown bonfire straight out of a coven ritual. It lights up the trees in an eerie golden glow, as if nature were hosting its own rave. People are dancing, and the blur between possessed and under the influence is getting more and more distorted as they move.
The ones who aren’t busy trying to eat each other’s faces suddenly notice me. With the way their eyes track me, you’ll think I am the shiny new toy they weren’t expecting. Some nostrils flare as if wondering what I am. The feeling makes me squirm, but before I can even decide whether to be creeped out or flattered, Kai and Wyll shoot them warning looks that are less don’t stare and more try it and lose a limb, growling included. Charming crowd, obviously not used to uninvited guests, or maybe just the ones that look like fresh meat.
Reaching the woods, Wyll lead the way as darkness closes in. The noise from the party fades behind us, the world pretending that the insanity back there was a mirage. The quiet is unnerving; only the leaves crunching under our boots break the silence. Then, of course, I trip. Because that’s what happens when you walk into a forest in the middle of the night. Somethingalwaysgrabs your foot. I let out this half-scream, half-grunt as I fall forward, bracing for impact. But surprisingly, I don’t eat dirt. Instead, a powerful arm wraps around me and stops me cold.
Seriously,howstrong is this guy?
Kai doesn’t say a word; he only reaches for my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His calloused fingers wrap around mine, warmth seeping through my frozen fingers. I jolt, a little thrill shooting up my arm, which isdefinitelynot normal or helpful.
So I ignore it, him.
We keep walking, my hand still trapped in his. Until we reach a set of gates straight out of a Victorian fever dream. And just like that, he lets go, as if I were carrying a skin disease.
Lovely.
Hope I didn’t give him a rash.
“Welcome to Casa Lindir! Make yourself at home,” Wyll says with this over-the-top cheer as he swings the gates open.
And there it is.
A manor that looks like Dracula’s summer house. Old stone, towering spires, pointed arches stabbing at the sky like they’ve got a grudge. Vines are creeping up the walls as if nature is trying to reclaim what’s hers. Overhead, stoned lycans in their wolf form are frozen mid-roar. Jaws open in a soundless snarl that echoes through the silence. The front door is massive, all dark wood and intricate carvings; you justknowit creaks ominously when it opens.
“Those are wards,” Kai says, like he’s pointing out the weather.
I roll my eyes, “Thanks, professor. I got it.”
I step through the doors and into a grand entrance hall that’s surprisingly cozy. The ceiling stretches so high it vanishes into shadows. Dim candlelight flickers along the walls, casting twisting shapes across the cold stone floor. And suddenly, all the confidence, the sarcasm, flickers a little, like those flames, unsteady.
“You’re not scared of a fire?” I ask, maybe too sharply, my voice echoing back at me, trying to pick a fight.
Wyll smiles. “Kvirr, darling.”
“Of course,” I mutter, trying to play it off. But I can’t quite push down the weight pressing against my chest, because Iam scared.
Not of the magic.
Not of the lycans outside.
It’s the candles. I know how it sounds. Irrational, dramatic, even, but every time I see a flame flicker, my chest tightens; all it takes is one.
One flame, one misstep, one forgotten moment.
That’s how I lost them, Mom and Alek. Swallowed by smoke and fire in the space between heartbeats. Now, every candle feels like a countdown. A fuse just waiting for someone to forget. So, no, I don’t trust firelight.
Kai brushes past, his gaze trailing over me, as if he’s reading between the lines I didn’t give him permission to. Ahead, the staircase coils upward. The banister is carved with twisting snakes, giving the illusion they’re alive.
“Follow me,” he says, already climbing.
And I do, slower. “So… is Kvirr magic catastrophe-proof?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “No. But you canwardagainst it. If you’re smart enough to think ahead.”
I stop.
