A sudden clack of boots against the concrete heralds their arrival before I even catch sight of the other members of our coven. I’mrelieved when Dezi, Khol, and Knuckles sweep into the backstage area like a gust of fresh air, banishing some of the lingering shadows with their sheer presence.
The new outfits cling to them in all the right places, turning heads and drawing low whistles from the crew. Fiadh’s gown shimmers like an autumn bonfire, Khol’s attire is sharp and calculated, and Dezi... well, Dezi looks like trouble in the best possible way. Gwennon and her lot outdid themselves in capturing both their personalities, but also matching Revelin’s outrageous style.
“Looking good,” I say, but my voice is tight, betraying the coil of tension winding tighter in my gut.
“Thanks,” Khol replies, his grin easy as he adjusts his sleeves to show off his cuffs. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
“It will be a miracle if we all look just as good by the end of tonight,” I mutter, motioning for him and Dezi to step aside. We huddle close, the din of the venue providing cover for our whispered strategy.
“If things go sideways, I’ve got a route mapped out. Priorities are Revelin and Fiadh?—”
“Excuse me?” Our mate’s angry voice cuts through our circle, sharp as a knife. She stands with her hands on her hips, eyes blazing with a fire that could melt steel. “I’m not a porcelain doll, Tiernan.”
Damn her bat-like ears.
“Knuckles—” I start, but Revelin joins her, slipping an arm around her waist.
“She’s right. Besides, this gig might be smoother than we think. Short notice means less time for trouble to brew.”
I bite back a sigh, recognizing the stubborn set of their jaws. This isn’t a battle I’ll win. “Fine. But stay close if the shit hits the fan. I don’t want you out of our sight. It’s too damn distracting when I can’t figure out where you are.”
“Got it. Stick to your ass like those pants,” Fiadh says snarkily as she ogles me for a moment.
Groaning, I rub my hand over my face before I open my mouth to retort. Unfortunately, that’s when the house lights dim.
Revelin chuckles, winking as he heads for the door. “That’s my cue, folks. Lectures will have to wait.”
My fingers twitch as I follow him, watching the Prince lead the charge onto the stage. From the wings, I can feel the hum of energy radiating off the crowd, the buzz of anticipation that fuels us all. Everything is going well as they play through the first couple of songs, and I let out a slow breath of relief. The music swells, notes cascading into the night, and the concert unfolds like a dream. Against all odds, the pieces click together seamlessly—a symphony of sound and light that captivates every pair of eyes.
Our Fae rockstar’s voice soars over the masses, a siren’s call that holds them rapt. And then, with a gesture so casual it seems rehearsed, he beckons Fiadh to join him center stage again. The audience erupts, but amid the cheers, I catch the glower of Amethyst and her cronies from their VIP box. A surge of satisfaction warms me.
Let them seethe in unrequited jealousy.
Fiadh steps into the spotlight with much less hesitation this time. It’s a testament to her strength, the way she commands the space beside Revelin despite hating every second. But the Fae prince isn’t done. With a smirk that spells mischief, he calls Khol up to join them. The basilisk’s reluctance is palpable even from here, but he acquiesces, sliding into place next to Fiadh as Revelin switches gears, the electric guitar swapped for acoustic.
The chords of the new song are raw, intimate, and the sight of the three of them together up there is powerful. It’s a moment of pure, unscripted magic, the kind that can’t be manufactured or anticipated.
For a brief interlude, as the music fills the air, all thoughts of demons and danger fade into the background, eclipsed by the simple joy of the performance.
The last chordreverberates through the sea of bodies, a collective exhale marking the concert’s end. Applause thunders, an avalanche of approval that should bring elation to any performer’s heart. But as I scan my companions’ faces, it’s clear not everyone is basking in the aftershocks of success.
Our girl’s eyes are narrow slits, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack diamonds. Khol stands beside her, every line of his body rigid with barely suppressed ire. They’re like two cornered predators, and I can’t help but think that Revelin’s antics have pushed them one step too close to the edge.
He should have let them leave the stage rather than keeping them there—not quite what I meant, dumbass.
“Encore! Encore!” The crowd’s chant builds, a relentless wave crashing against our brief respite. The audience is insatiable, their cries for Fiadh and Khol to return with the band growing more fervent by the second.
“Damn,” I mutter under my breath, watching their forced smiles as they acknowledge the cheers. “They didn’t sign up for this.”
I feel Dezi’s presence before he speaks, his voice low yet carrying easily over the residual noise. “If Revelin ever dares to do that with me, I swear he’ll rue the day.”
The threat holds weight, coming from Dezi. Yet, despite the gravity, I chuckle, shaking my head as I face him. “Ah, c’mon, you might end up enjoying the spotlight. You’ve got the looks for it.”
The vampire’s unamused huff tells me he isn’t convinced, but his lips twitch, betraying his stoic facade. My laughter fades as I ponder the spectacle we’ve become, wondering how long until the next impromptu performance turns into a headline.
“Revelin’s really digging a hole for himself, isn’t he?” I muse aloud, half to myself. “Personal gestures like these at concerts... they’re going to turn into media goldmines, leak or no leak.”
The thought lingers, a premonition of what’s coming. Revelin’s charm is a double-edged sword, capable of winning hearts and courting chaos with equal ease.
