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“What a shame; I would have thought scaring a devil would be the work of your sister.”

“Please,” he scoffed, strolling around the table and sliding into the seat in front of me, all smooth graceful movements just like his animal form. “A devil who’s scared of housecats? That’s hilarious.”

“What do you want?” We were going to ignore the fact that my face was on fire.

“My kid brother’s best friend is hopelessly in love with him and wants to surprise him tonight with a Chuseok celebration since we can’t be in Korea with our family.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Show up and eat some food.”

“Do you promise not to scare me again?”

“I promise… not to shift intentionally.” Carter’s cheeks colored, tinging his ivory skin a soft pink. “Blood moon coming and all…”

“Right.”

“Tate’s coming.”

I tried to play it cool… but Carter was the eldest sibling, and entirely too perceptive.

He didn’t address the flicker of emotion across my eyes, only continued his thought. “Made a joke about wearing a bib when I told him how much food Sam and Jaxon are making.”

“I’ll be there,” I finally admitted.

Tate was fully aware of my attendance and decided to torture me by spending most of the evening talking to an air-headed himbo that I tried to murder with my eyes.

It didn’t work.

I had to give it to Jaxon—the ogre had gone all out, short of flying Chris to Korea himself. Twinkling fairy lights wound between the limbs of the surrounding trees, flickering softly and growing brighter as the sun set. Sam and Jaxon had been cooking for days, food piling the tables so high it could feed the entire campus. There wasn’t a paper plate or plastic fork to be found, either. Every single utensil was ceramic or silver and even though the tablecloths were mismatched, the spread looked incredible.

I guess Chris must have agreed, because he tackled his best friend—or… boyfriend?—right there in front of everyone. Sam and Carter protested in Korean: “Get a room,” I think they said, but everyone else took it as a sign that it was time to eat. I couldn’t help but notice that Tate didn’t approach the tables with everyone else. Instead, he retreated into the shadows.

I flinched when Carter appeared beside me, ignoring the scathing glare I shot in his direction. “Hey, it doesn’t break the rules! You said I couldn’t spook you in cat form—not my fault you were too busy trying to kill Peter with your eyes to see me coming.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond, thrusting two plates in my hands. “Tate gets nervous around crowds. He’ll wait until everyone else has eaten first, but I also know that he hasn’t eaten all day.”

I watched as Carter listed out all of the foods Tate would enjoy, putting a generous serving of each one onto both plates. At the end, he stuffed cutlery and bottles of water in my pockets and sent me on my way.

“Thank you,” I mouthed over my shoulder, but he only waved me off.

Tate sat off to the side, almost hidden in between the shadows from the trees and the clothes he swam in. His eyes widened when I approached but upon seeing the plates in my hands, his brow furrowed. I guess his hunger must have won out over avoiding me, because he let me join him. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks,” Tate muttered, barely taking a breath before he began shoveling food into his mouth. He wasn’t running from me this time, so I would take whatever I could get.

We ate in silence, long enough that the sky deepened to a shade of navy so dark that it was nearly black, and a few stars fought against the light pollution to make themselves known.

As if this celebration wasn’t created for him alone, Chris and Jaxon were the first ones to leave, and not a moment too soon because things between them were becoming seriously X-rated. When Jaxon threw the human over his shoulder and hauled him away, Tate giggled beside me, and I practically swooned.

Could this guy be any more precious?

I couldn’t help but stare, and I inevitably got caught. Tate had already polished off his own plate and when I saw him eyeing mine, I happily handed it over.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, muffled around a bite of japchae—a noodle dish that I noticed might have been his favorite.

“What for?”

“Being a weirdo.”

I laughed. “I think that’s an admission requirement for attendance here.”