Page 147 of Godless Saints

Mine. I’d killed for Moon. I’d bury for him. And when I got back, I’d smile like nothing happened. The blood never really washes off anyway.

CHAPTER 35

MOON

The cards blurred in my hand. Another sip. Champagne fizzed across my tongue. Far too easy. Vivi sat to my left, Mikhail across, Aleksei dealing, Noah quietly studying his cards. Let the alcohol blur the clock ticking behind my eyes.

“Are they really going to…” The confession tore free. I swallowed hard. “You know.”

Vivienne didn’t answer. Just took a slow sip, eyes locked on her cards.

Noah stared harder at his hand, knuckles bone-white.

Mikhail pushed his chair back. “I’ll go check on them.”

Aleksei didn’t look up. “None of our business. Irish mafia problems. Russians don’t insert themselves into that mess.” His gaze flicked to me. “He’s been a threat to your family for a long time, Moon. Especially now that you’ve become Cillian’s weakness.”

Weakness.

I poured another drink. The bottle felt heavier than it should.

“Where are you from, anyway?” I asked Noah. “What’s your actual role in this spectacle?”

Vivienne leaned in. “I heard a bunch of rumors at the start of the year—”

Noah cut in quietly, cheeks flushed. “I was adopted. By two women. My mothers. They own a large tech startup. People say I bought my way in here, but I wanted Stanford. Not… this.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, knocking back another glass. The room tilted. “I wanted anywhere but fucking Evermourne. Nothing normal happens here. Nothing.”

Vivi patted my back, soft and sympathetic. “You’re doing great, Hyun.”

Aleksei’s voice stayed level, almost kind. “Evermourne prepares us better for what’s out there than any regular school ever could. The world doesn’t do normal, Moon. Not for people like us.”

The door opened. They came back. Cillian first—dirty, bloody knuckles, smears on his shirt that definitely weren’t his. My stomach lurched. Ill. That was the word.

Vivi wrinkled her nose. “God, please shower. You all smell like sweaty, savage men.”

I stood too fast, room tilting, and wrapped my arms around him anyway. Earth, copper, him. I buried my face in his neck. Mine. Filthy and mine.

“Are you drunk, prince?” Cillian asked. His arms locked around me.

I pulled back just enough. “No.” The room kept tilting anyway.

Cillian steered me back into the seat. He shrugged off his jacket. Rolled up his sleeves. Moved to the small sink. Water ran pink. I looked away.

We all sat back down like nothing had happened. Cards. Drinks. Lies.

Sawyer dropped into the last empty chair. “Why the fuck are you all moping? We’re supposed to be drinking. Partying. Poker.”

He grabbed the nearest bottle, tilted it back, throat working as he drained it. “Last night before summer. No more classes. No more dodging annoying fucks. Just freedom.”

He finished it and hurled the bottle at the far wall. Glass exploded.

Aleksei rubbed two fingers over his brow. “Do not throw glass bottles.”

Misha leaned back, grinning. “Whitlock is my kind of crazy.”

The table erupted. Vivi laughed. Noah hid a smile behind his cards. Kaelan snorted into his drink. My laugh came out fractured. Cillian’s hand clamped my thigh, thumb stroking slow circles, dried blood caught beneath his fingernails. My stomach flipped hard. I leaned into the blood anyway.