"I did stay invisible," I interrupt quickly, forcing a calm I don't feel. "No one knows it was me."
There's a pause. I can practically hear him grinding his teeth on the other end. "You think hiding behind a silver mask counts as invisible? Everyone's talking about the girl who danced with Alpha Cassian Veyron."
"Exactly," I say softly. "They're talking about the girl in the mask. Not me."
Silence again. A heavy one this time.
He sighs, that long, tired kind that makes guilt crawl up my throat. "Elara, do you even realize what could happen if they find out who you are?"
"I know," I whisper. "And I'm being careful. No one saw me leave. My roommate hasn't arrived yet. I'm fine."
"Fine," he repeats, voice low. "That's what you said before everything went to hell last time."
That stings. I bite my lip, but I don't answer. There's nothing I can say that will make him trust me again, not after last time.
After a moment, his voice softens. "Just... promise me you'll stay out of trouble now. Please, El."
I clutch my blanket, staring at the ceiling. "I promise."
A lie.
A necessary one.
When I hang up, the quiet of my room feels heavier. The sunlight through the window is too bright, my reflection in the mirror too flushed. My hands still remember the warmth of his-Alpha Cassian's-when we danced.
I shouldn't even think about it. I shouldn't want to.
But the memory plays on loop anyway: the way he looked at me like he could see through the mask, the way the world went still when he said my name, no, when he said nothing at all, just stared.
The girl in the silver mask might've been a rumor to everyone else.
But to me, she felt real. Alive for the first time in years.
*********************
Riven's Pov.
When unusual things happen, it's wise to dig up the roots.
Lucien's words, not mine. He's the one who believes everything has a reason, that if you dig deep enough, you'll find order in the mess.
I don't believe in order.
I believe in punishment.
The boy kneels before us now, shaking, blood magic smeared up his forearms like casual paint. The scent burns in my nose, iron and fear. Stupid. Reckless.
He tried to tamper with the wards during the ball. Thought he could summon something strong enough to make a joke of us.
Now he's about to learn what exposure really means.
Lucien sits across from him, one ankle resting over his knee, arms folded. Calm. Watching. His EarPods are in, music humming faintly, but I know he's listening to every word spoken in this room.
Cassian leans against the wall, that damned grin carved across his face like he's watching a show instead of an interrogation.
The boy stammers, "I... I didn't mean anything, I swear..."
"Don't lie to me."
My voice comes out low, dangerous. The kind of tone that makes even his breath hesitate.
He flinches, eyes darting between us. "I just... I wanted to see what makes you three so different..."
My fist slams into his jaw before he can finish. He hits the ground hard, coughing blood.
Cassian laughs softly. "That's one way to get him to the point."
"Shut up," I growl, grabbing the boy by the collar and dragging him back up. "You wanted to play with blood? Fine. Let's see what it costs."
His pulse races so fast I can almost hear it over the silence. The smell makes Cassian tilt his head, interest flickering in his crimson eyes.
Lucien doesn't move. Just watches. The flicker of candlelight catches his eyes, calm, calculating, unreadable.
"Blood magic disrupts balance," he says evenly. "He meddled with energy that wasn't his. The backlash explains the spike we felt last night."
I tighten my grip. "You're saying he caused it?"
"I'm saying he tried to," Lucien answers. "I did my diggings and this bastard is the one that tried to disrupt our minds."
Cassian chuckles. "How poetic. The boy calls on darkness and finds something brighter instead."
The kid's whimpering now, tears streaking through the grime. "Please. I didn't know it would..."
Cassian moves in a blur. One second he's leaning casually; the next he's behind the boy, hand clamped around his throat.
"You didn't know?" His tone is sweet, mocking. "Curiosity's a funny thing. Do you have your answers now, curious little one?"
The boy chokes, shaking. Cassian leans closer, releasing his fangs slowly until they graze skin, not biting yet, just tracing.
"Tell me," he murmurs, voice almost tender, "what did you see when you looked at us?"
"Monsters," the boy gasps.
Cassian's smile widens. "Good. At least you're not blind."
I take a step forward. "Cassian."
He doesn't look back.
"What? He already knows. Might as well make it memorable."
Lucien sighs, quietly like he already knows what Cassian would do next. "Don't make a mess."
Cassian glances at me over his shoulder, fangs glinting. "Do you want a taste, brother?"
My jaw tightens. I turn to Lucien, who looks absolutely unamused. "That bastard can't control his thirst."
Cassian winks. "Control is boring."
Then he bites. Quiet and sharp.
The boy jerks once, twice, and then goes still. Cassian doesn't drain him fast; he draws it out, a predator savoring his prey.
The color drains from the kid's face until he's pale as chalk, heartbeat faltering, gone.
When Cassian finally lets go, the body drops with a dull thud.
The room goes silent. Even the candlelight seems afraid to flicker.
Lucien removes an earbud. "Satisfied?"
Cassian licks a trace of blood from his lip, unbothered. "Not really. He tasted like regret."
I exhale slowly, trying to smother the burn in my chest. Rage. Hunger. Guilt. They all sound the same when you've lived too long with a curse.
Lucien stands, smooth as ever. "Dispose of him before sunrise. We don't need rumors."
Cassian yawns. "Always so practical."
Lucien's gaze hardens. "Always necessary."
Cassian stretches lazily and strolls toward the door. "You know what I think?"
"What?" I mutter.
He glances back, that infuriating grin still there. "That you two should loosen up a bit. You don't want to leave this world in regret of how you could have lived, you know?"
Then he vanishes before I can respond.
Lucien lingers for a moment, studying the corpse for a minute. Then he looks at me. "Live a little?"
I don't answer. Because the truth is, my way of surviving this curse is through aggression. Living a little would mean, allowing the curse overwhelm me.
And I'd rather lay down my life than be a slave to this curse.