“I can’t shake this feeling,” Emory said in an ominous tone that made my skin crawl, “something is coming.”
“You’re probably connecting the dots wrong again. Now, finish getting ready.”
My stomach twisted because Emory’s power of divination meant her gut feelings were rarely wrong, and after last night’s events, she was definitely on to something. I opened my mouth to tell her she wasn’t crazy, but my mouth was too dry to speak. The red mark on my wrist from last night had faded, so I bit my tongue, locking away the secret.
By the time we arrived, the Whitethorn’s driveway was already lined with cars. For as long as I could remember, Kenna had always thrown a massive costume party for her birthday. We’d been friends since birth, and now, we were college roommates.
I adjusted the halo on top of my head while Emory parked next to a familiar black Jeep.
“Oh, Cal must be here.” She tried and failed to keep the excitement from her tone. “And Eli,” she added quickly.
She smiled widely as she flung open the driver’s side door and practically sprinted inside. I followed more slowly, my heels wobbling on the uneven ground. I was one wrong step away from twisting an ankle. The loose gravel turned to solid wood as I made my way up the familiar porch steps.
The five of us—Kenna, Cal, Eli, Emory, and I—grew up entangled together, bound by bloodlines thick with old money and even older magic. The town never suspected the magic, but they loved to gossip, calling us the founding families.
I followed Emory into the Whitethorn’s old colonial mansion and instantly regretted wearing the angel wings. Only a few steps through the door, and I’d already managed to spill multiple drinks and almost decapitate a handful of people. But without the wings, my costume was only an inappropriately short dress.
Red Solo cups littered the floor, looking entirely out of place with the extravagant fixtures and paintings lining the walls. Mr. Whitethorn must’ve been away on business, because he’d never allow these degenerates to defile his home like this.
“Emory!” a familiar-looking girl yelled, running up to my sister. I awkwardly stood back as the girls let out high-pitched squeals. Arms flailed as they hugged one another, eventually looking over in my direction. I gave a polite wave and continued forward, avoiding any type of uncomfortable small talk.
I carefully maneuvered through the crowd, sidestepping elbows and costumes, careful not to poke anyone’s eye out. I made my way to the back door in search of Eli, who I’d bet was outside smoking. The cool breeze nipped at the flushed skin of my neck and cheeks.
The sharp points of my heels sank into the grass as I made my way over to the keg on the lawn.
“Lyra,” a husky voice called out. Cal’s bulky frame staggered from the house, and his massive arms wrapped tightly around me. My feet were planted firmly on the ground, and then I was twirling through the air.
Cal Abbot was, embarrassingly, my first crush. Young Cal had been boyishly cute. Current Cal, with his toned physique and sharp jawline was nothing short of hot. The Greek god costume he was wearing put his chiseled features on full display, and his muscles looked like they were carved by the gods themselves.
“This is new.” I rubbed my fingers over the coarse, patchy beard he was trying to grow.
“The ladies love it,” he said, straightening his shoulders.
“Callum!” Kenna squealed. Curved horns protruded from her pin-straight blonde hair. The tulle skirt of her Maleficent costume trailed behind as she sprinted toward us. Kenna had always gravitated toward villains because they were far more interesting and didn’t need rescuing like princesses.
“I missed you.” She flung her arms around us both. Cold liquid from her now empty cup soaked through the fabric of my dress.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Kenna wiped at the brown stain on the front of my dress.
I waved her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How are my girls?” Cal’s muscular arms tightened their embrace around us, forcing Kenna’s bony shoulder into the side of my cheek.
“Well, besides an annoying roommate, college is great.” Kenna giggled. I peeked from under Cal’s arm, flipping her off.
“Don’t make me separate you two,” Cal tsked, sounding like a father scolding his unruly children.
“What about you? How’s college?” The questions tumbled from my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him. Texts and calls were few and far between with all of our busy schedules.
“College is fine—” Cal drifted off, looking around the backyard.
My phone vibrated between my boobs. The dress didn’t have pockets, so I had shoved my phone in there for safekeeping.
Dylan: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
A small smile tugged at my lips. He must have seen the photo I’d posted to my Instagram story. The whole thing had been intentional—subtle enough to get his attention, but not so direct that it felt desperate. Because let’s be so for real, you only ever really post to get that one person’s attention.
“Hello, earth to Lyra.” Kenna snapped her fingers in front of my face.
