I lean back in my seat, watching the mismatched convoy stretch out behind us in the mirror.
“Guess we’re really doing this,” I mutter.
Mo glances over, grin still in place. “Hell of a party.”
Yeah. Hell of a party.
Chapter 31
Bree
The convoy rolls out of the city like a parade that forgot to ask permission.
I’m in the third vehicle with Thane and Stellan, the raven still perched on my shoulder like it’s claimed permanent residence. Through the windshield, I can see the line of headlights stretching ahead—trucks, vans, sedans, some that look like they’re held together with hope and duct tape.
Behind us, even more lights.
The energy is intoxicating. Windows down, voices carrying over the rumble of engines, laughter cutting through the night air. For the first time in what feels like forever, it doesn’t feel like we’re running.
It feels like we’removing.
My Ether hums quietly, threading through the space between us and the vehicle ahead. I let myself sink into it—the warmth, the connection, the sense that something impossible is finally happening.
Then we pass the last streetlight.
The road opens up into countryside—dark fields stretching out on either side, the faint scent of water on the air from somewhere in the distance. The city lights fade behind us, and suddenly all I can see is us.
Headlights for miles.
A chain of mismatched vehicles, loud and obvious and impossible to miss.
My stomach drops.
“Stellan,” I say quietly.
He glances over. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re too visible.”
“We look like a festival caravan,” Thane nods from the backseat, voice dry. “Or a very poorly planned invasion.”
I twist in my seat, looking back through the rear window. The line of vehicles behind us curves around a bend in the road, lights blazing like stars falling in formation.
“Every person with a phone is about to record this,” Stellan says calmly. “We’ll be trending before we hit the freeway.”
My chest tightens. “We can’t— we need to stop.”
Stellan doesn’t argue. He just reaches for the radio clipped to the dash and clicks it on. “Lead vehicle, pull over. Now.”
Mo’s voice crackles back immediately. “Copy. You got a reason, or we just taking a scenic break?”
“Bree’s call,” Stellan says, glancing at me.
I lean forward. “Pull over, Mo. Everyone.”
One by one, the vehicles slow and stop along the shoulder of the road. Headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating cornfields and open grass. The lake is faintly visible in the distance, a dark line against the horizon.
I step out before the truck fully stops, boots hitting gravel. The night air is cooler here, sharp and clean. Engines tick as they cool, and voices rise in confusion.
