“It was a long time ago.” Lucian pats my shoulder, his eyes staying on Savvy. “She was just never the right person for me. Just filled a role.”
“Right.” I glance back and forth between them. “I’m going to go find Maeve.”
“Sounds good,” Lucian says. There’s a whole conversation happening between them, I can see it, I just can’t read enough of it to make any sense.
“See you later, Iz.” Savvy gives me a quick smile, a light dusting of pink spreading over her cheeks.
The week passes in fragments,blurring together like smeared brushstrokes.
Some mornings, I wake up to Jace watching me sleep. Other mornings, Luca’s banging on my door, dragging me to the gym until my musclesscream, sweat drowning out the ache in my chest. Noah always has scenarios waiting, but it helps keep my mind focused.
Maeve slides me coffee before anyone else, curling up beside me with a blanket when I can’t keep up with the boys’ banter, or pulling me into the kitchen to bake when she catches me staring too long out the window. She laughs with Luca, teases Noah until he cracks a smile, and somehow manages to match Jace’s stubbornness.
At night, sometimes we all collapse on the couches with hot chocolate, the glow of some movie flickering across the screen. Maeve and I share a blanket, our shoulders knocking together while the boys sprawl out around us—Luca stretches over half the couch, Noah hogs the throw pillows, Jace is always near me, his hand tangling in mine even in sleep. Other nights, we all end up in the home theater, Luca shouting commentary at the screen while Maeve and Noah bicker over plot holes.
Lucian checks in daily. His updates are short. Daniel is still underground. “We’re watching. Waiting,” Lucian says more than once, but I can hear the strain in his voice. He’s restless, just as I am.
Among all of it, there are small things that stitch me together. Maeve braids my hair while we sit by the fire, the way Jace seems to be softening with me, Noah grumbling about Luca stealing his blankets in the living room. Luca insists on watching rom-coms or reading some smutty romance book to me, with all different voices included. Little moments, ordinary and almost normal, string like beads along a thread.
But no matter how warm the fire burns, or how safe the Hall feels, I can’t shake the truth pressing at the back of my mind. We’re waiting. And waiting means the storm isn’t over—it’s only gathering.
Ashthorne Hall glows from the inside out, the lights golden and warm, flickering against the windows like something out of a storybook. It doesn’t feel real, not all the way. Not the way Lucian moves through the kitchen, helping Elara and Savvy plate hors d'oeuvres. Not the way Max, Derek, Noah and Luca spent the afternoon bickering over how to hang garland in the great room. Not the fact that I was going into a new year…alive. And loved.
Maeve comes up behind me and nudges her shoulder against mine. “Are you ready for your first real New Year’s Eve?”
I give her a small, nervous smile. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means no shouting matches, no hiding in your room, no crying in the shower. It means champagne and fairy lights and possibly a kiss under the stars,” she says with a wink. “It means magic, Iz.”
I let her pull me back downstairs.
The great room smells like cinnamon and woodsmoke. There’s a fire crackling, low music playing, and Luca somehow convinces everyone to wear party hats, even Lucian. Jace looks good in black—he always does—but tonight something about him looked softer. Looser around the edges. His smile when I walked in was quiet, private, like I was the only thing he saw.
When midnight gets close, we step outside to the back terrace. The cold hits me first, but then Jace’s hand finds mine and I barely feel it.
Lucian lifts his glass. “To survival. To strength. And to the people who make life worth it.”
Fireworks burst over the trees a second later, streaking violet and gold. The sound cracks like thunder, echoing through the sky.
Jace pulls me into him as the countdown finishes, his lips brushing my hair. “Happy New Year, Isobel.”
I tip my head up and kiss him.
After the others drift toward warmth, drinks and late-night dessert, Maeve and I find our way to the cozy nook near the grand staircase. A fire burns low nearby, and Elara had left out a tray of hot cocoa and cookies as if we were little kids. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.
We curl up under a blanket, legs tangled, cocoa steaming in our hands.
Maeve tilts her head toward me. “So. First New Year’s without chaos?”
I laugh. “It was pretty good.”
She smiles into her mug. “I meant what I said earlier, you know. I’m glad you found this.”
“This?”
“This place. These people. Yourself.”
I look down at my mug. “It doesn’t always feel like I know who that is yet.”
