Narla raised an eyebrow. “Alpha Crush?”
“The marketing tested really well.” Dahlia’s face was perfectly innocent. “Marzipan approved.”
The cat, curled against Avine’s hip, let out a sound that might have been agreement.
“I’m surrounded by traitors.” But Avine took a cupcake anyway. The chocolate melted on her tongue, rich and perfect, and underneath it she tasted comfort magic, subtle but undeniable.
TWENTY-EIGHT
AVINE
The wine flowed. The candles flickered. The mud masks began to dry, tightening pleasantly on their skin.
And Cassia, never one to let an opportunity pass, leaned forward with a gleam in her storm-colored eyes.
“You know what would really help your recovery?”
“If you saymore wine, I’m cutting you off.”
“Better than wine.” Cassia raised her hands, fingers dancing with barely-contained magic. “A visual aid. For medicinal purposes.”
Before Avine could object, Cassia’s power flared. Light shimmered and coalesced in the center of the room, forming shapes, taking on color and texture until?—
Theo stood before them. Or rather, an illusion of Theo—slightly translucent, definitely magical, and completely shirtless.
“Why?” Avine’s voice was barely a squeak. Her wine had gone bright, glowing scarlet.
“For healing!” Cassia cackled. “It’s medicinal! Scientifically proven to raise the spirits!”
“That’s not—that’s absolutely not?—”
The illusion paused mid-swing. Turned. Flexed.
Avine grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the shimmering figure. It passed through harmlessly, but the illusion flickered in what might have been amusement.
“Make it stop!”
“You sure?” Cassia grinned. “You haven’t looked away once.”
Avine’s face burned. She was definitely not looking away. The illusion was very detailed. Very detailed. She wondered, briefly and inappropriately, how accurate it was. Whether the real Theo looked like that when he worked, all coiled strength and unconscious grace.
The liquid in her glass blazed scarlet, practically glowing.
She grabbed another pillow and covered her face with it.
“You’re all terrible. Every single one of you.”
Cassia dismissed the illusion with a wave. “We’re delightful and you love us.”
The worst part was, she did.
As the winebottles emptied and the candles burned lower, the laughter faded into quieter conversation.
They’d removed the face masks, their skin glowing faintly in the aftermath of the magic. Dahlia had curled up in the armchair, Marzipan in her lap. Cassia stretched out on the floor, Gust tucked under her arm. Junie sat cross-legged on the bed, Glimmer sleeping coiled around her wrist. And Narla remained in her corner, watchful and calm.
“You almost died protecting me.” Dahlia’s voice was quiet. The humor had drained from her face, leaving vulnerability behind. “I’m gonna be annoying about your health forever because of it. You know that, right?”
A tightness gripped Avine’s throat. “Dahlia?—”
