Isobel walked halfway to Dorm A before her nerves got the better of her and she redirected herself to Dorm O. She couldn’t turn up in sweaty exercise clothes spotted with blood and without birthday gifts. Niko never invited her to anything, and she hadn’t seen Kilian in weeks.

She agonised over what to wear, her stomach flip-flopping sickeningly. Her fingers itched to snatch one of Kilian’s shirts from the shelf, but they didn’t smell like him anymore. She considered wearing the dress he had bought her, but it reminded her of Eve … and the fact that nobody had attacked her since Eve was expelled.

The news about Aron had broken to the public the same night she told the guys, but none of the officials had reached out to her to hear what she had to say. Not even her father had asked her what had happened in Vermont. He had given her an exhaustive lecture about wasting her time on Omegas and then ignored her for two weeks for ruining his settlement tour, abandoning his apartment in the family centre until she was well enough to start playing the game again.

She had no idea what had happened to Eve.

Nobody would tell her, and the news was only focussing on Aron, keeping the details just vague enough that it almost seemed like they were blaming him for the attack … and him alone. None of it made sense, but that was Ironside. The officials didn’t have to explain themselves. They decided what narrative to play, and the rest of the world never questioned what they saw. The only thing that remained to be determined was why, exactly, they had chosen this narrative.

Isobel settled on a pale slip dress—one of the pieces her father had brought to their last dinner. He had one of his assistants analysing the latest fashion trends and purchasing designer pieces for Isobel to wear. A post had gone viral of Isobel recycling the same five oversized T-shirts, always tucked into black tights or shorts, and some of the comments had linked her apparently limited wardrobe to the less-than-stellar box office numbers for her father’s latest movie.

One of his team had decided to bring the comments to his attention, and now Isobel had more clothes than she knew what to do with.

He didn’t care that the T-shirts were Kilian’s, or that she spent most of her day exercising. He had told her to get changed between every single class so that she was never anything less than absolutely presentable.

The slip dress skimmed her body gracefully, the fabric silky smooth, gliding against her thighs as she slipped her feet into sandals. The neckline was subtle, the spaghetti straps accentuating her pale collarbones. She quickly moisturised and brushed her hair, twisting it into a ponytail when it flared out, a little too wild after all her activity for the day.

She picked two ribbons carefully off one of the more extravagant dresses she would likely never wear and hurried outside, almost running straight into a harassed-looking Theodore.

“Good. You’re here,” he said. “Already checked everywhere else.” He cast a quick, uncomfortable look at the door. “Can we please leave, like now? I’ve been accidentally groped twice.”

It had been weeks, and it was still hard to look at Theodore without thinking about his hand pushing into her panties. Most nights when she flopped onto her makeshift bed, that intense look in his eyes as he eased her toward orgasm was the first thing she saw. The way his arm had shuddered with restraint as she came on his fingers. The way he had bitten his lip so hard it had drawn all of her focus. The way his eyes had burned hotter than they ever had before was seared onto the backs of her eyelids.

“Ah.” She cleared her throat. “Hello.”

“Hello back at you, cutie.” He grabbed her hand and began dragging her away from the dorm. He clearly wasn’t as affected as her. “What are the ribbons for?”

“I’m going to pick some flowers for Niko and Kilian.”

“What for?”

“For their birthday.”

“I don’t get it.”

She was jogging to keep up with his long strides, but she didn’t care at all because the warmth from his hand was tunnelling through her body, easing away her exhaustion and calming the feeling of her stomach turning over and over like a carnival ride—the same uncomfortable feeling she had been dealing with for weeks.

“To give them as presents?” she tried again.

“Oh.” He cast her a tight smile. “Of course. How … you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or not,” she grumbled.

“I would never insult you …”

She dug her heels in, forcing him to slow down before she continued walking, analysing him with her eyes narrowed. “Why did that sound like there was a but?”

“Well … I don’t have the highest opinion of your innermost survival mechanisms,” he admitted gently. She flinched, thinking he was talking about Eve, but he quickly added, “Because of Oscar.”

“Sato?” She frowned up at him, but he avoided her eyes, both of them silent as they walked around the lake.

She broke away from him when they got to Jasmine Field, and quickly gathered up two floppy bouquets of flowers before they approached Alpha Hill. It wasn’t until she was halfway up the steps that it finally hit her.

“The kiss,” she whispered, almost tripping over the next step.

Theodore caught her and then quickly released her. “Mhmm.”

“The chain made me do it,” she muttered the words lowly even though the cameras were too far away to catch any words spoken on the stairs.

He glanced immediately to her chest, which wasn’t surprising. Niko had likely told them everything in a group message as soon as he walked away from her.

Well … almost everything.

She doubted he said anything about licking her. They seemed to share a lot with each other … except their more intimate moments with her. Theodore must have only just recently found out about the kiss with Sato, or she was sure he would have brought it up earlier.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, glancing away.

“Not anymore.” She shrugged. “It healed straight away. Now it just feels … comfortable, I guess. I visited Sophia—the Guardian’s daughter. She thinks it’s a gift from one of the gods. Something about ‘if it’s a mystery, then it’s probably from the god of mystery.’”

“That would check out.” Theodore smirked. “I’m glad Niko was there.”

“Where have you been?” She winced the second the words were out of her mouth, but she didn’t try to take them back. She understood that she had broken his trust, but he broke hers first and she only ignored him for a short amount of time. Not that he had ignored her, exactly. But he had definitely stepped back.

“Kalen’s orders,” he uttered quietly. “A Tether in pain, healing from a soul infraction … you shouldn’t be able to tear that person away from their mate with a towline and a tank. Since I didn’t leave your side at the hospital, he wanted to make it seem like it would be easy for us to be away from each other. I didn’t want to tell you because you struggle to ask for help as it is, so adding a reason you shouldn’t contact me seemed like a bad idea. I wanted to still be here for you if you needed me.”

“Oh.” She halted again, wanting to prolong their conversation.

She turned back like she was pausing to survey the view from halfway up Alpha Hill. The breeze drifted through her hair, the desert flowers vivid in the afternoon light, the academy appearing calm, though she could hear music playing over outdoor speakers in the direction of Dorm A. He paused with her, his fingers dancing lightly up her forearm before sliding back down to her wrist. He seemed to want to take her hand, to fit his fingers through hers, but he didn’t.

“If you needed me, all you had to do was say so, Illy.” His voice was gruff, but soft, like he was trying not to speak too loudly. “Or you could just come to the dorm. You’re always welcome.”

“Not always.” She forced a laugh. “What if you were with Wallis?”

“She’s not allowed inside the dorm. Mikel said her scent is too strong.”

Isobel blinked, taken aback. “Seriously? What does she smell like?”

“A would-be rapist.”

Isobel winced. “What does she actually smell like?”

“A group of kids having a craft day. Loud and messy.” He gave her a sideways look as they started climbing the stairs again.

She laughed hollowly. “How can someone smell loud? Or messy?”

He shrugged. “Same way you can smell messy … but in a good way.”

“What’s the good way?”

“Forget I said that.”

“Okay, so … the other … um, girlfriends? What do they smell like?” she asked, avoiding his eyes. “James and Ellis?”

“Newspapers, and popcorn.”

“Newspapers aren’t so bad,” she said. “Gabriel could be into that.”

“Musty newspapers,” he corrected.

“And popcorn? What’s wrong with that?”

“Burnt popcorn.”

She rolled her eyes. “I find that hard to believe. You all smell … amazing. Not to mention Wallis has already been inside Dorm A. I was there.”

“You were more than there. You were the one who invited them to stay. And people’s scents change depending on your feelings toward them. If a person disgusts you, their scent will evolve into something that disgusts you.”

They had reached the top of the stairs and Isobel was saved from answering as she kicked the last stair in shock, her eyes widening at the number of students who had gathered around Alpha Lake. They were spread out on picnic chairs or blankets, all of them facing a giant projection screen that had been rolled from the rooftop of Dorm A to cover a portion of the front of the building.

Ironside staff were manning snack booths off to the side, and there was a small, roped-off area right in the prime position directly across from the screen, a wooden platform set up to house eight cosy bucket chairs, several cameras on tripods facing the seating area to catch even the slightest whisper.

“What … the heck?” Isobel muttered, trying to take it all in. “Who organised this?”

“The officials.” Theodore shrugged casually, disinterested in the whole scene … which for Theodore, could have meant absolutely anything.

“They’re hoping for a show,” Isobel whispered, raising her brows at the platform in the middle of it all. There were even dimmed spotlights set up, a soft glow haloing each individual chair.

Moses pushed through the crowd, stopping before them. His nose crinkled in a way that would have been adorable if his expression wasn’t painted thickly in aggravation … and if it wasn’t Moses.

“You’re both late,” he snapped, his darkening eyes drifting over her figure in the shift dress like he couldn’t help himself before he noticed the two haphazard bundles of flowers in her arms. “I thought Sigmas were supposed to be generous.”

“I thought Alphas were supposed to be cool,” she said stiffly.

His lips twisted, flashing the briefest shadow of a smile before he took the flowers off her. “Relax, Carter.” He rolled his eyes at her sound of protest. “I’m just leaving them on the platform.” He turned away, striding off toward the roped-off area.

Theodore’s grip wound softly above her elbow, tugging her toward the snack booths. Isobel spotted Wallis making a beeline for Theodore, her attention fixed on him, her mouth a tight line of determination. He let out a soft sound of frustration and plastered on a welcoming smile—which was several inches more than anything Isobel could muster—before he released Isobel.

“There you are!” Wallis looped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him, but he turned so that her lips landed on his cheek instead.

Isobel busied herself with the containers of different candy laid out before her, scooping little squares of caramel-coated chocolate into a paper cone and pretending she wasn’t listening to the fake couple an arm’s length away.

“I’ve been waiting here for an hour,” Wallis complained. “We’re wasting valuable camera time.”

If Isobel didn’t know that Wallis had sexually assaulted Sato, she might have thought that Wallis’ voice sounded husky and alluring. Instead, it made her skin crawl.

“The chairs are just for … the birthday group,” Theodore returned gently. “They actually have our names on them.”

“I’ll sit in your lap,” she purred.

Isobel peeked at him from beneath her lashes. He did a good job of looking adoring and at ease, but his sweet scent had soured, and his discomfort was reaching out to her, hammering away on her chest and asking for acknowledgment.

She was just about to open her mouth and say something stupid when Reed appeared, wrapping his arm around Theodore’s shoulders and leaning down to stage-whisper to Wallis.

“How much do you really want to piss off Theo’s adoring fans, hm? They’ve waited years to have an hours-long live session of his disgustingly handsome face at close range, and you want to block their view?” He shook his head, whistling a tone of warning. “Way to get yourself cancelled, Wally.”

“It’s Wallis,” she said, appearing shocked that Reed was talking to her, and even sort of knew her name.

“Right. Enjoy your night.” He dragged Theodore off, and Isobel quickly stepped away, just in case Wallis decided to latch onto her instead.

She looped around, keeping an eye out for Kilian or Niko before stopping before the candy booth again and filling up her paper cone with more chocolate caramels.

“Um … Carter?” the woman behind the candy stall asked nervously.

Isobel quickly focussed her attention on the woman. “I’m allowed to eat these, right? Shit, I didn’t even ask. Sorr—”

“No, no! It’s all free!” The woman was waving her hands like mad, red colouring her cheeks. “I was just going to suggest these, since you like the caramels so much.” She held out another paper cone, already filled, looking nervous as hell. “I’m a huge fan, by the way. I know we’re not really supposed to talk to the students, but …” She trailed off as the man in the booth beside her cleared his throat, shooting her a quick warning look. “Big fan,” she repeated in a whisper as Isobel took the second cone.

“Me too,” a familiar voice spoke behind her, making the woman’s eyes go wide with shock.

Isobel also froze, her skin prickling.

What the fuck?

What the absolute fucking fuck?

She turned slowly, both cones dropping out of her grip, chocolates scattering over the ground.

Eve Indie was thinner, with dark circles under her eyes, but she was there. Dressed in loose, high-waisted jeans and a tight tank, a row of gold necklaces dangling brightly around her neck.

“Good to see you again, Iz—”

“Get away from me.” Isobel stumbled back, her hip butting against one of the plastic candy containers.

“It wasn’t me.” Eve’s lower lip was wobbling, her hand reaching out for Isobel. “That guy—Aron. It was all him, he forced me, threatened me … He has this power that drugs people …” She took another step closer, and Isobel shot to the side, backing rapidly away. “You really think they’d let me back in here if I was guilty? He demonstrated it in front of all the officials!” Eve called after her, the shout drawing the attention of the students around them. “I’m just an Omega with no abilities!”

Isobel’s head was spinning, her vision growing blurry, panic clawing up the back of her neck and filling her vision with an unsteady haze. She stumbled toward the dorm, unsure where else to go.

Maybe she could barricade herself in Theodore’s room or—

A strong hand wrapped around her bicep before she could get far, and she swayed toward the familiar scent of crushed petals and spilling sap. Even Moses was a beacon in her current state of panic.

“Come with me,” he muttered. “Keep breathing, Carter.”

Breathing.

Right. She was supposed to be breathing.

She pulled in shaky breath after shaky breath.

“Not so fast,” Moses gritted out as he manoeuvred her through the crowd of people. “Take them slowly.”

She focussed on doing what he told her until she found her voice again. “Eve—”

“I know.” His voice was a growl. “Kalen just texted us. They cleared her of all charges and delayed the news until now so the fucking surprise wouldn’t be ruined.”

“What?” she cried, an echoing bolt of pain shooting up her arms. She looked down, but there were no new wounds, only the long, puckered pink scars.

He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to collide with his back. They had reached the stage with the eight chairs, the cameras only a few steps ahead. He turned, fixing her with a dark look before ducking to whisper in her ear, his words barely audible.

“You’re an actor to them, Carter. And they want to make you the victim over and over again because they think you’re good at it. You don’t want to play out the script they just handed you? Then don’t. Don’t react. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

She choked back whatever she might have replied as he lifted away, grabbing her hand and dragging her onto the platform. The seat with his name on it was in the middle, Theodore’s name tag beside it. He released her hand just before the line of cameras and dropped into his spot, arching a heavy brow at her. She sucked in a deep, unsteady breath, her mind turning over and over in shock and disbelief.

Eve had tortured her. Almost killed her. And they let her back into the academy for … a surprise episode?

For views?

For a plot twist?

Moses was right.

There was no way she was going to play along with this script. She stepped onto the platform and sank into Theodore’s seat, crossing her arms and legs. She let her head fall back, her body slumping slightly like she didn’t have a care in the world before she tilted her chin up to Moses, trying to thank him without words.

His lips tilted up at the side, then fell back into place again. “Dammit,” he muttered. “I forgot snacks.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m getting them for you,” she grumbled. She wasn’t that grateful. “I stand no chance of wrestling Theo out of this chair if I leave it unattended.” And she was pretty sure her legs weren’t working.

Moses dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and as his fingers flew across the screen, Isobel’s own phone began to vibrate. She extracted it from her small cross-body bag, tapping on the group chat.

Moses: I’ve got Carter.

Moses: Someone bring us snacks.

Theodore: What’s the damage?

Elijah: Who has eyes on Eve?

Mikel (admin): I do. She’s with her friends, trying to find a spot near the stage. I don’t think she’s going to try anything. The story they’re pushing now is that Eve was forced by Aron. They’re saying he’s the one with the illegal drugging power. Apparently, it slipped out of him when the officials were questioning him, but Eve was also in the room.

Isobel: It’s not true. I felt her power while I was here in the academy. She’s used it on me before.

Mikel (admin): We know.

Kalen (admin): We won’t take our eyes off her until the movie night is over. Keep acting unaffected. You’re doing perfectly.

Isobel: Okay.

Theodore: What snacks do you want?

Moses: Whatever you’re getting.

Moses suddenly looked up. “What were those chocolates you were inhaling?”

“Something with caramel. I don’t know.”

Moses: And caramel chocolate, whatever types they have.

Theodore: They have like seven types.

Moses: It’s for Carter.

Theodore: I’ll get them all.

Oscar: Get some for me.

Theodore: No.

Oscar: Why the fuck not?

Cian: You aren’t cute enough.

Isobel smirked at her screen, casting a quick look around to make sure Sato wasn’t anywhere near her.

Isobel: It’s true. You aren’t.

“It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt,” Moses singsonged, a note of warning in his voice.

“Why is everyone so terrified of Sato anyway?” Isobel seized the opportunity to get more information on him from the Alpha who seemed to spend the most time with him, and to take her panicked mind off Eve. The guys were remarkably good at keeping cool heads in stressful situations … unless ferality was involved, and then all hell broke loose.

It was easier to mimic their forced ease—to distract herself with their interactions—than it was to confront what had just happened and what it meant for her moving forward.

Moses smirked, shaking his head. “I’m sure the fans appreciate your subtle attempt at gossiping for the cameras, but you’re going to have to try a little harder if it’s Oscar you want to gossip about.”

Her phone announced a new message, and she returned her attention to the screen.

Theodore: Oscar took the fucking snacks. I have to go back and get more.

Oscar: Flattery will get you everywhere.

Isobel: We’re sorry about before. You’re incredibly cute, Sato.

Moses: Incredibly.

Theodore: Gag.

Isobel: Can we have the snacks?

Oscar: Say please.

Isobel: Please.

Oscar: One more time.

Isobel: Please?

Oscar: Again.

Elijah: Stop it.

Gabriel: Are you two flirting?

Isobel: No.

Oscar: Yes.

Isobel: NO. Why would you even ask that?

Oscar: Because he doesn’t know what flirting looks like.

Elijah: What does flirting look like, Oscar?

Elijah: Here’s a hint: it doesn’t begin with “tor” and end in “ment”.

Moses: From here on out, I will be calling Oscar “kettle” and Elijah “pot”.

Gabriel: Moses has a point there.

Elijah: All three of you can shut up.

Isobel glanced up to find Moses biting back a smirk, his dark grey eyes swimming with humour as he read the messages. Cian stepped onto the platform before Isobel could glance back down at her phone, and he gave her a slight smile. His dusky golden skin was a little paler than usual, his hair pulled into a messy knot, his mouth tightening back into a hard line after attempting to smile at her.

“All good?” he asked her, dropping into the seat on her other side, even though it had Kilian’s name on it. His fingers played across her forearm, a gentle brush along the outside of her scar before his hand dropped to rest on his own thigh. It was almost like he wanted her to know that everything was normal with them, that all the tension in his expression wasn’t aimed at her.

She nodded, darting her attention over his shoulder for a brief moment, trying to catch sight of where Eve had situated herself. Instead, she saw Kilian and Niko trying to make their way through the crowd.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Isobel lied, her eyes darting back to Cian’s sharp, sapphire gaze. “She’s back. Whatever.”

“Let’s not waste any time on her,” he agreed, a spark of satisfaction flashing across his angular features. “I’m sure the officials punished her suitably.” His eyes narrowed just slightly, several of the micro muscles in his face twitching before he wrestled his expression into something calm and unbothered. Despite all the effort, he couldn’t smooth out the deep dimple etched into his cheek, showcasing his displeasure. “And how about your bond? You haven’t been asking us to surrogate lately.”

She reared back an inch, wondering why he would bring that up with a camera staring at them head-on and microphones taped to the chairs.

“I’m surviving,” she hedged.

“You’re paler than usual, skinnier than usual, and Gabriel and Elijah both said you aren’t fulfilling all of your practice time. You keep leaving early like you don’t have the energy to keep going.”

She frowned at him. “I haven’t had much of an appetite and I’m a little weak at the moment. It’s no big deal.”

“What’s in your bag?” he asked, his tone combative.

What the heck?

“Stuff.” She frowned harder, and he tipped toward her, quickly tugging on the zipper until he could pull open her bag to peer inside.

“Tissues,” he noted. “Cough drops, pills—”

“Allergy medication and anti-inflammatories,” she corrected. “Not pills.”

“Who prescribed them?”

“Someone on my father’s team.”

“Exactly.” He zipped her bag back up, leaning away from her again, though he kept her trapped in his gaze. “But your bond specialist prescribed you something else, didn’t she?”

Isobel wanted to hit him.

He waited, and when she didn’t answer, his stern expression melted into a soft, wry smile. “We only have a bit over a week left until summer break. Have you thought about who you’re going to take home with you?”

She stilled. He was right.

They were almost at the end of the final term, and she had two impossible deadlines looming—deadlines she had conveniently forgotten about while she was getting over what Eve and Aron had done to her.

There was still the anonymous texter who had ordered her to find out how to get into the Icon club, and there was Wallis, whose life she was supposed to somehow ruin.

At first, she had naively hoped that Eve had been the texter, but despite Eve’s absence, the messages had continued. Usually, the texter just sent a number of days until the end of term, sometimes accompanied by an assurance not to fuck with them. Sometimes it was just a picture of her walking to class with her head tucked down. It was a constant effort to keep the pressure on her, to make sure she couldn’t forget.

“Wait.” She blinked away the heavy thoughts. “I can take someone home with me?”

“How else will you survive summer break?” Cian raised dark gold brows, his teeth flashing in a lazy smile.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted. She couldn’t think past the impossible tasks ahead of her. “I’ll have to talk to my father about it.” Time was slipping away. She seemed to be stuck in the trauma of what Eve had done, unable to think too many steps into the future before the memories dragged her right back again, phantom pain shooting through her arms.

“Still hoping Prince Charming is going to walk into one of the settlements and report a funky eye colour?” Cian asked knowingly.

She rolled her eyes, trying to elbow him, but he only grabbed her elbow and then used it to pull her up to her feet. He tugged her onto his lap, his free hand quickly looping her legs to the side so she wouldn’t flash the cameras. She found herself sitting sideways, staring at Moses, who had glanced up from his phone at all the movement.

“Is that necessary?” Moses asked, sounding annoyed.

“She has a bag full of medication and she’s lost weight,” Cian snapped back. “So I’m guessing it is.”

Moses rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair and tapping his phone distractedly against his thigh. “Where the hell are the chocolates? Chocolate will help.”

“Chocolate?” Cian asked, scanning the crowd.

His hand was still on her leg, just above her knee, that touch alone flooding her body with warmth as his tattooed thumb brushed back and forth, the contrast of his dark, tattooed skin against her fair, unadorned skin drawing her eyes again and again.

“Well, food in general,” Moses muttered like he suddenly didn’t want to be involved in the conversation. “You’re supposed to be reminding her to eat.”

Niko stepped up to the stage and Moses pointed to the flowers at the base of the camera stand. “Those are for you.”

Niko looked from the flowers, to Moses, and back to the flowers, confusion descending over his features.

Isobel quickly jumped up, hurrying over to him, and picking up both bouquets. She pushed one of them into his arms. “Just one of them.” She wanted to fret over the already-wilting petals but pulled her hand back, forcing herself not to fidget. “Sorry … I didn’t have much time to prepare.”

Niko gave her a lopsided smile—the brilliant, beautiful flash of teeth that he shared with the camera, and never her.

“Thanks, Carter.” His attention flicked to her chest for a second, his eyes darkening briefly before clearing so fast she could have easily imagined the shadow of emotion. “You good?”

She nodded, her throat tight.

He surveyed her for a second more before passing her and finding his seat, leaving her to face Kilian. She froze, waiting as Kilian stepped up to her, his pale eyes brushing over the flowers in her arms. “Those for me, Illy?”

He had used her nickname. That seemed significant, somehow. Like he was secretly telling her that everything was fine. Theodore was the only one who used her nickname, the rest of them choosing to call her by her first name, her last name, her rank, or a random—sometimes disparaging—pet name. And sometimes the name of a literal pet.

She nodded, holding the bundle of flowers out silently.

His eyes lightened, crinkling at the corners, his lush lips quirking up. Her heart threatened to tear out of her chest. Holy crap she was nervous.

Theodore brushed past, arms overflowing with snacks, dark brows shifting up slightly at the way they were just standing there, trying to find words to speak to each other. “Little help?” he grumbled, palming half the paper cones off to Kilian.

“No flowers for the other two?” Elijah asked, striding across the platform and taking a seat, his attention shifting around distractedly. He seemed agitated to have a close-up lens focussed on him. His eyes came to a rest on Isobel, cataloguing her confused expression. “You didn’t know,” he concluded before she could say anything. “It’s Moses and Theo’s birthday tomorrow. That’s why it’s such a big party, we’re doing all the birthdays at once.”

Isobel whacked Theodore across the chest. “Why wouldn’t you tell me!”

He shrugged, smirking at her as he took his seat, reminding her that she never should have vacated it. Cian had moved to the seat with his name tag on it, Kilian settling beside Theodore, offering him a single daisy from the bunch he held. Theodore tucked it behind his ear, still smirking at Isobel. Moses stared at Niko’s bouquet, waiting for a pity flower, but Niko only moved it to his other side, out of Moses’ reach, pretending not to notice.

Gabriel stepped up onto the platform, finding his own seat quietly, and then Oscar stalked over to the last free seat as most of the spotlights around the lake suddenly dimmed, the projection screen flickering to life, sound booming from speakers all around them. Soft lights remained focussed on the eight chairs, highlighting them in a gentle golden glow.

Kilian crooked his finger at her, and she cast a quick look over the crowd. Her closeness to Kilian was exactly what had gotten her into so much trouble in the first place … but fuck Eve. And Aron.

And all the rest of them.

Kilian was the only Alpha she could safely be close to without it having to mean anything. He was the first person she was really comfortable with since her mother, and that wasn’t something she could ignore.

She began walking over to him, but Theodore caught her attention before she got there, holding out several paper cones full of chocolate. She bit down on her lip as she gathered them up, thanking him quietly and casting a quick look to the far seat on the right. Sato was lounged back, as lazily as he possibly could in the bucket chair, the hood of his jacket pulled up around his face, casting most of it into shadow now that the lights weren’t as bright. He still had all the paper cones he had apparently confiscated off Theodore, and he didn’t look like he was about to share them anytime soon.

He held one out to her, wiggling it a little before passing it to Cian and muttering something in the other Alpha’s ear. Cian passed it along to Kilian, his face completely blank. Kilian was sitting cross-legged, having already kicked his shoes off, the chairs almost wide enough to fit two people in them.

“I think this is for you,” he said, as she reached him.

The cone was full of baby carrots.

“For variety,” Sato explained, somehow forcing his gritty voice to sound almost friendly.

“Thanks,” she bit out, trying not to glare at him.

He only smiled back. Or at least she thought he was smiling. He might have been leering. It was hard to tell because she wasn’t sure how far his lips were capable of stretching.

Kilian pulled her into his lap, and she settled back against him, cuddling all her snacks to her chest as the movie started. It was a cult classic, one she had already seen a few times before.

Kilian looped an arm around her middle, his other hand dipping into one of her cones to steal a chocolate. “Are we supposed to watch the movie?” he asked lightly. “Why all the cameras? It’s like they expect us to do something else.”

“We could do something else.” Niko leaned around Theodore to speak to Kilian. “I’m not attached to the movie.”

“It is our birthday,” Kilian mused, his voice brushing against her ear, making her want to squirm.

“What do you want to do?” Cian asked, sounding bored.

“Let’s play a game.” Theodore whipped out his phone. “We’ll let the fans pick.” His fingers flew across the screen. “This whole thing is live, so …”

“They’re already asking us to play confessions, aren’t they?” Elijah asked.

“Literally fifty comments saying exactly that,” Theodore answered.

“This is live?” Isobel whispered.

“Didn’t you look at the camera?” Kilian spoke the words against her temple this time, lowly enough that the microphone might not have picked them up.

She shrugged. She absolutely hadn’t, but she did now, staring directly into the lens and noticing the small sign on top of the camera, stating that they were being recorded live.

“All right,” Cian drawled. “Let’s play confessions. Everyone gets three passes. We need a punishment for the first person out and a reward for the last person standing.”

Kilian pulled his phone out, resting it on Isobel’s thigh as he pulled her tighter back against him, notching his chin on her shoulder to look at his screen. He brought up the live broadcast and scrolled to the chat, where the comments were flooding in. Isobel pretended to be reading them as well, but her mind was already wandering.

Maybe Moses wouldn’t make her go through with trying to ruin Wallis’ life?

She cut her eyes past Theodore, taking in Moses’ lounging posture and dark, brooding expression. He sighed out an unhappy sound, diverting his attention from the movie and tipping his head forward to peer down the line of chairs. He seemed to be looking at Sato, but then his eyes slid to her. She quickly looked away.

“Hands off snacks, people. Pile them in the middle,” Moses suddenly ordered, unfurling from his chair, and setting down the food he had brought over.

The others followed suit without question, and Kilian put his phone down, releasing Isobel. She added her paper cones to the growing pile, Kilian dropped the one, small cardboard box he had brought over, and then he scooped her up again. The movement was so effortless, making her feel light as air as he sat down and cuddled her into his lap again.

“Okay, so winner gets all the snacks,” Cian said, reading his phone. “Loser has to give everyone massages through the second half of the movie.” He glanced up at Moses’ scoff. “That one came from the comments, not me. Who wants to MC?”

“We’ll do it.” Kilian pulled up his phone again, tapping back into the comments section. “First confession is for Kane.” He lifted his eyes to Theodore. “When are you going to sing again?”

“I didn’t realise anyone wanted me to sing again,” Theodore answered, smiling right at the camera aimed at his face.

Kilian scrolled back up to the live video, and Isobel swallowed at the image of Theodore on the screen. He looked beyond flattered. Touched. Ecstatic. His wide, perfect smile and twinkling eyes had her stomach flipping all over the place, his stormy gaze so beautiful she wasn’t even surprised to see links to the Gifted contact store popping up in the comments. They had released a special edition contact called Kane – A Perfect Storm (Light Edition). She guessed Moses would be the “dark edition.”

“Crushing much?” Kilian whispered, the words stirring her hair gently.

She tunnelled her elbow into his gut, making him grunt and almost drop the phone. He chuckled, skipping through the comment section as it flowed with overenthusiastic responses to Theodore’s answer. Several of them mentioned Consolidation Day, which marked the end of their final term and the start of the summer break. They were begging him to give them a concert even though the Consolidation Day concert was always hosted by the fifth-year Icon contestants.

It was also in ten days. Another reminder that her time was running out.

“Your turn,” Kilian muttered.

She picked a question at random, seeing Kilian’s last name. “Gray: Is physical touch your love language?”

Kilian chuckled, his arm wrapping even tighter around her. It was actually kind of … adorable.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked his camera. Isobel kept her attention on the phone but scrolled up to see that her and Kilian had replaced the image of Theodore. Kilian was pouting at the camera, his beautifully curved lips making her heart skip a few frantic beats before melting into a pathetic pile of goo.

“He’s a clingy motherf—uh … guy,” Cian said. “I’m surprised he didn’t immediately pass on the question just so that he can lose and give us all massages.”

A few of the other Alphas chuckled, but Isobel was too distracted by the comment section, and just how many people were saying that Kilian was the most precious, most adorable man in the world, that he had to be protected at all costs, and that all the other Alphas must secretly love when he clings to them, because you would have to be dead inside to not love Kilian.

Wow.

“Okay, next.” Kilian flicked past all the comments, uncaring of the overwhelming praise aimed at him, weeding out the questions in between the compliments. “Sato: Do you have a Gifted ability?”

“Pass.” Sato stared his camera head-on, and the comment section filled up with emojis.

Isobel laughed before she could help herself because everyone was using the same emoji. The blue frozen face with ice dripping from it. It must have been some kind of inside joke that the Ironside fans had started, because suddenly, the comment section was a wall of blue. The Sato on screen was looking to the right, and the screen was split to also show herself and Kilian … who were sitting to his right, with only Cian separating them.

She could feel Sato’s attention like a physical caress against her cheek. It was hot. Searing. Kilian hid a smirk against her hair, but she could still see his eyes smiling on screen.

“Okay, next.” She cleared her throat, ignoring Sato. “Ashford: How many tattoos do you have now, and do you plan on getting more?”

Cian lifted his shirt, revealing ink covering his side, stretching so far that she couldn’t see the top of it, the base of the design disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. The slightest hint of his nipple piercing glinted at her before he covered it with his knuckle. She could make out geometric patterns and other designs woven between, with random objects hidden in the details—like falling bullets, twisting snakes, a hanging birdcage, or a constellation of stars—but she was too shocked at the sheer amount of ink on display that she barely even categorised a single one of them in detail.

“I added a few over the break,” he said. “The officials gave me special permission to have the rest done at the parlour on Ironside Row. It was a reward for agreeing to become Carter’s main surrogate.”

Moses scoffed loudly. “Her main surrogate?”

“That’s not a thing,” Theodore said, sounding calm. Mildly amused. “What about everyone else?”

“Not all of us are her surrogates.” Niko cleared his throat, sounding uncomfortable. “Better clear that up.”

Isobel hadn’t looked away from Cian, and he noticed. He also hadn’t dropped his shirt. He wasn’t even sitting up straight or trying to flex, and she couldn’t make out an inch of softness. It made sense now that she had seen what Easton liked to put them through.

His skin almost looked gold-brushed in the soft spotlight, smooth and taut. He bit into his lower lip and then released it, forcing a flush to rush to the lush curve, reddening the flesh. His bright eyes became hooded the longer she stared at him, and Kilian’s smirk against the back of her head melted into an outright laugh, shaking through his body and into hers, jolting her out of the spell Cian had cast over her.

Cian dropped his shirt, but his tattooed fingers brushed his muscles on the way down, making her focus narrow on the rings littering his fingers as she wondered what the cold metal would feel like if he gripped her skin.

Properly.

Not the small brushes he usually gave her.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought, but it burrowed in deeper, digging claws into her and making her press her thighs together tightly. Kilian stopped laughing immediately, tugging her back until she was flush with his warm chest, his chin notching onto her shoulder again.

“Spade,” he said, his tone deeper than usual as he fixated on one of the comments. Gabriel tilted forward in his chair to listen to Kilian. “When are you going to debut a dance? We’ve been watching you and Reed practise for two years. Why are the Alphas being so secretive about their specialisations?”

“Pass.” Gabriel sat back, looking at the camera in a disapproving way. The comment section filled with immediate scoldings for whoever had asked such a “pushy” question. They were protective of Gabriel for some reason. Or maybe it was just the Alphas in general.

“Hart.” Isobel spotted Niko’s last name, holding her finger on the screen to keep her place since the comments were now flowing in much faster than she could keep up with. “Are you planning on specialising in tennis next year?”

“Nah.” Niko shook his head, tossing the platinum locks that slipped over his vision. He brushed both hands through his hair, pulling the bleached waves back as he shared a warm, secretive smile with the camera. “Next question.”

The comment section exploded.

@reed’s_rhapsody: NIKO HART HAS A SECRET SPECIALISATION? WHAT IS GOING ON?

@kannoisseur: Why does Sato look like the only snack he’s playing for is sitting in Gray’s lap? Can’t tell if I’m turned on or terrified.

@wildestdreamer: Not Niko Hart over here playing 3D chess and making even the fifth-year Icon contestants look unprepared.

@tune_tracker: Niko Hart can specialise in me if he has nothing else going on.

“Carter.” Kilian found a question for her amidst the chaos. “Are you being bullied by the Omegas?”

“No.” Isobel forced a light laugh, wishing she was half as good of an actor as Theodore, or Niko, who seemed able to turn his charm off and on just as easily. “It’s all just normal, healthy competition.”

The comments immediately turned to questions about Eve and Aron, and what happened in Vermont, but Kilian quickly flicked past them all, pausing on one that seemed to be addressed to Reed instead.

“Reed.” She cleared her throat. “Why do you think they let Eve Indie back into Ironside? Wasn’t she there when Carter—when I was attacked in Vermont?”

Elijah blinked, looking down at the camera over the rim of his glasses. He hadn’t been wearing them when he sat down. Maybe he hoped they would be an extra barrier against the camera. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I think that’s a pass,” Kilian mumbled as the “cold” emoji started to pepper the comment section again, the rest of the comments admonishing the poster for such a triggering question. “Moses, what did you think of your kiss with Carter? People are saying you’ve never had a girlfriend before. Is that true?”

“My brother dated every girl in our year group back in the settlement,” Moses said blandly. “And I’m not into sharing.” His image on screen cocked a challenging brow. “Did I kiss Carter? When?”

Cue another onslaught of cold emojis.

“Answer or pass,” Reed inserted, his tone droll.

Instead of snapping at Reed, Moses relaxed further back into his chair, lifting a tanned hand to stroke his scarred chin. His stormy eyes narrowed in thought, one of his legs kicking up to notch against the edge of the chair, his knee swinging distractedly back and forth.

“Pass,” he eventually said, the shadow of a smile ghosting his lips, like he knew he had just driven everyone into a frenzy thinking he might actually answer the question.

Isobel squirmed on Kilian’s lap, realising the screen had switched to a split view again, showing her own face. “Sato,” she said quickly, picking a question and then pausing … wishing she had proofed it first. “Why did you …” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Did you offer to be Carter’s—I mean my surrogate?”

“Pass.” He answered instantly, giving the camera the same deadpan stare, his hood still up, his eyes slitted. He was going to lose the game at this point.

Isobel knew her face was bleeding red, but Kilian was already moving on.

“Theodore, who’s your favourite Alpha?”

“Moses.” Theodore rolled his eyes, and the mood began to lighten immediately, with Cian and Niko both jumping on Theodore and demanding he change his answer.

Isobel and Kilian tried to pick light-hearted questions after that, but Sato still refused to answer any of them, earning himself last place, while Isobel, Kilian, and Theodore tied in first place.

“How should we settle this?” Theodore asked, his competitive streak rearing its head, as he swept his eyes over Isobel and Kilian cuddled up in a chair before turning his attention back to the camera.

Sato suddenly started laughing, and then he stood. “This one,” he said, flashing his phone screen before tucking it into his pocket. “I like this idea. Whoever lasts the longest locked alone with me in a dark room, wins. Except we’ll do the garden shed, instead. If any of you break before three minutes is up, I get top spot and you all have to share last place.” He started to stride off but paused at the edge of the platform. “Kilian, you’re up.”

Kilian didn’t exactly have time to argue before Oscar strode away, and he was left sitting there in silence with everyone else. Locking himself in a cramped, dark space with Oscar was very far down his list of priorities, especially with Isobel snuggled into his lap, but there was suddenly a staff member with a camera notched onto his shoulder and a timer pulled up on his phone rushing to the platform, and everyone else had turned to see what he would do.

He lifted Isobel and plopped her back into his seat before striding off without a word. The cameraman followed him, so he tried to relax his expression, but it soon became glaringly obvious that all the students gathered on top of Alpha Hill for movie night had their screens lighting up their faces and were watching the live stream with rapt attention.

He pushed into the garden shed and slammed the door behind him, turning on his phone’s flashlight and dropping it onto one of the workbenches.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Oscar asked, sitting on the bench, and examining his nails.

“I was comfortable where I was,” Kilian sulked, crossing his arms.

Oscar smirked. “You know someone has already stolen her, right? Probably Cian. Maybe even Gabe, just to fuck with Theo.”

Kilian itched to check the live broadcast to see if it was true, but forced his arms to wind back in an exaggerated stretch instead. “Are we gonna make out or what?”

Oscar laughed, his eyes glittering darkly. “Nice deflection. How about I describe what it was like to make out with the person you actually want to get your hands on?”

“When did you make out with Cian?”

“When did you get so funny?” Oscar’s smile suddenly disappeared, and all the glitter twinkled right out of his stare, rendering it blacker than black. “I don’t want to hand out massages so here it is, Kili. She tasted exactly like how I knew she would. Like fear, and sweat, and fistfuls of crushed cherries leaking all over her skin. Her little whimpers and moans and the way she pressed against my dick—”

“Yep, I’m out. This was great. Let’s never do it again.” Kilian stormed out of the shed, ignoring the cameraman checking the timer on his phone as he rushed back to the stage.

The worst part was … Oscar wasn’t lying. That was what Isobel tasted like, at least partly. But Oscar hadn’t said a thing about the rich, heady syrup scent she gave off, and how her skin tasted like that when she clenched her thighs together and sucked on her lip like she was trying to savour the aftertaste of her favourite candy.

Kilian found himself clinging onto that fact, but then quickly grew irritated that Oscar had managed to turn it into some sort of fucked-up competition in his head.

Isobel didn’t belong to any of them, and she never would.

It was impossible.

There was no competition. Whether Oscar tasted her or whether Kilian did, she would always be unattainable. More so now than ever, because Kilian’s ex was the one who helped to cut her open and defile their bond.

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