"I'm still not kissing you," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Arthur smiled—that crooked, imperfect smile that made my stomach flip. "I didn't ask you to. I just asked you to inspect a book."
"There is no book," I accused.
"There might be," he teased, leaning back against the tree. "Are you going to report me for deception?"
I looked at our joined hands. I looked at the overgrown garden. I looked at the man who saw the wreckage of my life and decided to build a picnic in the middle of it.
"No," I said softly, squeezing his hand. "I think I'll let it slide. Just this once."
Arthur squeezed back.
And for the first time in forever, the silence wasn't lonely. It was just... quiet.
18
If war had a dress code, this was it.
"You look dangerous," Rhett said, stepping into the living room and adjusting the cuffs of his tuxedo. It was velvet. Midnight blue. He looked like something out of a fairy tale that ended with the wolf eating the prince.
I turned from the mirror. My dress wasn't just a gown; it was armor. Silver silk that flowed like liquid mercury, with a bodice structure that looked suspiciously like a breastplate. Ivy had enchanted the hem to shimmer like broken glass.
"I feel dangerous," I admitted. "Or maybe just nauseous. It's hard to tell."
Kai walked in, wearing a suit the color of moss and earth, a single white rose pinned to his lapel. "Nauseous is normal. Marrow is throwing a party to celebrate 'Unity' while secretly planning to dissect us. If you weren't nauseous, I'd be worried."
Lucien was last. He didn't walk; he materialized from the shadows near the door. Black suit. Black shirt. No tie. He looked like the void itself had decided to attend a formal event.
"The car is waiting," he said, his eyes scanning me with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. "You're breathtaking, Lina. Marrow won't know what hit him."
"Hopefully a lightning bolt," Rhett grumbled.
The Winter Solstice Gala was held in the Grand Ballroom, a space usually reserved for graduation and donor dinners. Tonight, it had been transformed. Ice sculptures of wolves, vampires, and fae lined the walls—frozen, static, trapped.
"Subtle," Ivy muttered as we walked in. She was wearing a red dress that was less 'Lady in Red' and more 'Blood Warning.' She had Jax on one arm and Stone on the other. Rook was floating (literally hovering three inches off the ground) behind them.
"Where's Amelia?" I asked, scanning the room.
"Kitchen duty," Arthur whispered, appearing beside us with a tray of champagne. He was wearing a waiter's uniform. "Marrow put all 'probationary' students on service detail. She's furious. She's broken three plates already."
"Tell her to hold on," I whispered back, taking a glass. "We make our move at midnight."
The plan was simple. Or as simple as plans involving chaos magic ever were. At midnight, when Marrow took the stage for the Solstice Toast, Ivy and Rook would blow the circuit breakers for the entire building.
The Union would be born in the dark.
"Dean Marrow looks happy," Kai noted.
I looked toward the stage. Marrow was there, shaking hands with the Board of Directors. He was wearing a white suit. He looked pristine. Clinical.
He saw me.
He didn't frown. He didn't scowl. He raised his glass.
"I don't like it," Rhett rumbled, his hand tightening on my waist. "He's too calm."
"He thinks he's won," Lucien said. "Let him think it."
