“Thanks, bad boy,” I say, the gratitude spilling forth naturally. “Today was... more than I expected.”
“Anytime, Sassypants,” he replies, his smile genuine. “You and I can get lost in the spa anytime you want, even when we get home.”
We reach the penthouse, the expansive space a stark contrast to the cocoon we’ve just left. But the sense of renewal clings to us, a wellspring from which we’ll draw strength for whatever lies ahead.
When we get inside, I make a run for the bathroom—it’s been a long day, after all. Flicking on the lights in the bathroom, I wait for them to ignite. The light from the bulbs reveals a face that seems unfamiliar—not just rested and pampered, but softened in expression, unguarded. The reflection catches me off guard; it’s as if the day’sindulgences peeled back a layer I didn’t know I wore, exposing something raw yet serene beneath.
Damn. Maybe all that shit was worth whatever yearly salary Rev paid for it.
I reach for the array of garments laid out across the chaise, fabrics rich and textures varied, each piece more exquisite than the last. As my fingers brush over a silk gown, I pause, allowing myself a moment to marvel at how different I feel. It’s not just the absence of tension in my muscles, or the smoothness of my skin—it’s deeper than that. There’s a lightness in my chest, a buoyancy in my spirit that wasn’t there this morning.
“Knocking it out of the park with the fancy threads for dinner, huh?” Khol’s voice breaks through my reverie from across the room where he’s examining his own selection.
“Seems like we’re playing in the big leagues now,” I reply, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His reflection grins back, and I can’t help but return the gesture. The camaraderie between us has taken root, grown through shared experiences beyond the battles and bravado—now strengthened by mutual vulnerability and leisure.
“Who would’ve thought spa treatments could serve as armor?” I muse aloud, selecting a dress that shimmers like twilight skies.
“Best kind of armor is the one your enemy doesn’t expect. We’re not just fortified; we’re revitalized,” he counters with a wink, pulling on a shirt that fits him with tailored precision.
The corners of my mouth lift involuntarily. Today had indeed been a revelation. The unexpected joy of surrendering to luxury, to care, had not dulled our edges but honed them differently. I find myself grateful—not just for the reprieve from our relentless reality, but for Khol, who unveiled this unforeseen side of life, and of myself.
“Ready to conquer?” Khol asks, now fully dressed, his posture relaxed yetcommanding.
“More ready than ever,” I affirm, slipping into the gown. It envelops me like a second skin, another layer of preparedness for what’s coming. “The press in Amber Hollow needs to know who they’re dealing with,” I say with a determined nod, stepping away from the reflection to finish getting ready.
It may not be the Fiadh I’m used to being in order to protect people I care about, but I’ll be damned if I will not work it with everything I’ve got.
Icrack an eye open to the soft warble of morning birds outside our window in Amber Hollow. The sun hasn’t fully claimed the sky yet, but today’s mission is already pressing on my mind. With a stretch that rolls into a yawn, I sit up and glance over at Fiadh and Khol, who are still ensnared in their dreams. Today, we march through the halls of learning, where young minds grow wild and free. I can’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought.
Sharing my love of music is the best part of these tours—though many would be surprised to hear me say that.
“Rise and shine,” I call out, nudging Khol with my foot. His response is a muffled grunt, face buried in his pillow. Fiadh, ever the light sleeper, stirs with a lithe gracefulness that never fails to impress.
“Five more minutes,” Khol mutters, but I’m having none of it.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” I tease, “you don’t want to miss the kids who think being a bad boy is cool at these schools.”
Fiadh chuckles, her eyes sparkling with mischief from the memory of last night’s dinner. I had poked fun at Khol’s edgy demeanor, suggesting he’d be the idol of every teen angst novel protagonist we’d meet. The way his cheeks reddened was a sight to behold. The camaraderie between us, the easy banter and shared stories, somehow made the weight of our responsibilities feel lighter.
“Remember,” I continue, adopting a mock-serious tone, “it’s not every day you get to inspire the future delinquents of Amber Hollow.”
Khol throws a pillow at me, but it’s a lazy throw, and I catch it effortlessly. “You wish you were as beloved by the masses as I am,” he retorts, finally sitting up. The corners of his mouth twitch upward, unable to suppress his own amusement.
“Perhaps among the rebels and renegades,” I concede with a grin before turning to Fiadh. “And what about our quiet warrior? Ready to face the adoration of countless admirers?”
Her laughter is a melody that dances in the air, brightening the room more than any sunbeam could. “Adoration is the last thing I want,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ll leave that to you, Revelin.”
We dress quickly, joining the early birds, Dezi and Tiernan, in the dining area. The vampire goes over the schedule with us step by step, warning us about various pitfalls we might face during the day. Fi rolls her eyes, Khol snarks, and Tiernan sighs as we try to make it through the meeting with no one getting punished.
Once we’re done, the clang of my guitar case locks punctuates the morning hush as I secure my favorite six-string to my back. A quick glance in the mirror confirms my transformation: today, I am every inch the rocker, with streaks of purple hair that echo Fiadh’s vibrant tresses. Beside me, Tiernan looms like an unmovable mountain in his tactical garb, occasionally shooting me a knowing smirk as he catches my eye.
“Sure you’re ready to be upstaged at Willowshade, Revelin?” Khol’s voice teases from behind, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Please,” I scoff, turning to face him. “You might charm a stray cat or two, but those kids are coming for the music.” My words are light, but there’s a spark of competition between us that never quite dims.
“Children love their bad boys,” Dezi interjects coolly, adjusting the cuff of his elegant button-down. He’s all class and wealth, a stark contrast to Khol’s leather and defiance.
“Let’s not forget who’s on the posters in their bedrooms, gentlemen,” I retort, leading the way out of the hotel.
