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This is the night the Serpents shed their ordinary lives for a few stolen hours before returning to their jobs and families waiting for them elsewhere. From appearance alone, I can’t tell who belongs to the Order. The club always has a mix of people wearing borrowed versions of themselves.

But every man in the Order knows me. All too well.

Lights sweep across the crowd in slow pulses, turning faces into ever-changing masks. The music vibrates through my ribs, loud enough to keep thoughts from fully forming.

Edwin keeps me tucked against his side as we move through it all. My black dress fits tight to my body, but I wear it like a shield that grants me confidence. Beside me, he looks effortless in his tailored suit, every dark line of him honed by self-assurance.

He moves through the crowd with ease, as if he’s wearing a crown he’s owed. People turn when he enters a space. They glance once, then again, as if their eyes can’t help it.

Whatever happens with the Trials, the Serpents can never take away his club. Edwin is pure power given a body.

I still don’t understand what it means to be chosen by someone like him. My whole life, I was raised to be given away for some alliance my parents would form.

Edwin’s attention is personal. Intense in a way that won’t let me rest without knowing he’s right there.

It’s risky. I’m already getting used to the idea that he’ll protect me from everything. And I don’t want that to let my guard slip.

He hasn’t told his brothers about the letter yet. I can feel it in the way his jaw tightens whenever anyone mentions family. He says he’s waiting for the right moment.

Tonight isn’t for spilling secrets. It’s a performance. He’s rebuilding his reputation, proving himself to the Order members who decided long ago that he wasn’t worth the title of Sovereign despite his lineage.

We stand surrounded by people eager for a fraction of his attention. Their voices blur together. Their laughter sounds too bright, like it’s trying to cover up the fact that everyone here came to do something they won’t admit out loud.

I stay quiet beside him, composed the way I was taught, even when my nerves buzz. The habit is difficult to break.

I let Edwin take up space. I let him speak and be the center of attention because he thrives in it.

Then someone grabs my arm.

A gasp catches in my throat as I twist away instinctively. Calista’s fingers are tight on me, her face flushed with irritation.

“Can I talk to you?”

Edwin glares at her, disgust radiating off him. I place my palm on his chest, right over the mark I left on his heart. One look up at him and, reluctantly, he lets me go. But his eyes track every step I take as Calista pulls me through the crowd.

We stop near the edge of the room where the lighting is dimmer and the press of bodies is thinner. The bass continues to hit my lungs, but at least I can hear myself think.

Calista faces me, arms crossed. “What’s going on? You just up and left with Edwin.”

I blink at her, trying to find a safe answer. My instinct is still to smooth things over. To be agreeable and make everything neat.

I shrug. “We hit it off. And I want to see how it goes.”

Her eyes narrow. “So you’re going to live with him after knowing him for two weeks?”

There’s jealousy under the anger, whether she would admit it or not. Calista wants freedom in the same way I do, and she hates that mine arrived wrapped in a man she’s been taught to despise.

“I lived with you after an hour,” I remind her.

“That’s different, Zaiya. You weren’t fucking me.”

Heat rises in my face at being spoken about like I’m a scandal.

I exhale slowly. “It’s working out well so far.”

Calista scoffs. “Yeah, well, you could’ve been nicer about it to my mom. She’s all worried about you. It’s annoying.”

My heart aches at the thought of hurting Evelyn. Her concern has been a shelter for me. I can’t forget how she held me like her own child, cared for me in a way I never experienced before.