(ty for reading, u r very much appreciated :D and many thanks for 7k reads, that is a lot of people taking some time on this crazy story, and for that, thank you thank you. the little star waves hello)

(EDITED)(Note to readers: Some chapters ahead may not be in line with the new edits.)

Range test. Weapon of choice: throwing knife, death-proofed, mostly. Target: whoever's in the way. I.e, my brother and me.

I had memorized that exact second, that first meeting, when the exams began. When my brother had faced me no longer like my brother, but like a hunter. Like the other half of his soul was nothing but stubborn prey he couldn't quite snag in his clutches. I'd tell everyone I didn't know why we had gone from allies to enemies, why my brother had abandoned his promise before I even had time to consider its gravity, but that wasn't very honest. I knew why. Worst, he knew I knew.

I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees. A drop of blood splashed from my nose to the hardwood floor. I coughed, gagged, on it, like it was syrup going down my throat. I reached out and clasped the dagger in my hand.

"It's like you're trying to fail."

I slumped against the cold stone wall. Seoul screamed and bustled away outside, where I'd never reach. My fingers tightened around the hilt. The things I would've done, in that moment, in the all the moments before, just to see what the world had outside.

My brother stood at the other end of the room and watched me with cold, black eyes. He tossed the knife from hand to hand. He said, "You really take the Omega stereotype to heart. You can't even throw a blade straight."

"Shut up," I hissed. "We're not speaking."

"We aren't?" Elias sneered. "Ah, that's right, I forgot about that."

"What?"

"Your cowardice," he spat. "Afraid Appa is going to wring your neck for chatting?"

"Appa would wring my neck for breathing and then some," I snapped. "Who are you to say anything? You won. Are you happy?"

"Who is happy here?" Elias tossed the knife in front of him, face tightening. "Be happy when you're out of this place. Don't tell me you're such an idiot that you think there is anything to do in here but survive."

"Kill your brother while you're at it," I suggested.

"Maybe Umma should have been teaching you this—" He kicked the knife towards me. "—rather than telling bedtime stories and playing board games, then. Sounds like a shortcoming you will have to find a way around."

"I've been going around for six years," I snapped. I hauled myself upright, but my ribs ached from the effort. "What—what do you want from me? You've never once told me, you just do what they want, win every test we have to take, never spare me a word. Two halves, is a joke." I pointed the knife at him. "What do you want?"

Elias glowered. There was a storm in that gaze, a type of stare that pierced right into my soul and yanked fragments of it out to squash under his heel. The kind that wished me Hell in a hand basket. 

"It's my life or yours, Echo," he hissed. "Umma might have put her bets on you, might have chosen you, but it'll be my life." He pointed his knife at my forehead. "She bet on the wrong fucking wolf."

"Umma didn't choose me."

"Oh?" he hissed. "Then tell me, who did you choose?"

"What?"

"Take your half. It will be the best prize you'll ever get in your pathetic life." Elias dropped the knife at my feet. "Call it mercy."

I grabbed his shoulder hard. "Hyung," I said.

Elias watched our knives on the floor, broken, bloodied things. He stared at me. Two of the same faces. Halves of the same soul. Eye to eye to eye to eye. Every day I wonder what could've happened to keep us like that. Eye to eye. Soul to soul. Against the knives, away from Umma and Appa, out of Seoul, out of the Drachmanns, RIYU, all of it. If I could have kept my half for good.

"Please," I said. "You can't win like this."

Elias's face contorted. "Maybe not like this," he hissed. "But whoever won anything, by taking what they're given?"

Elias tore himself away from me, and walked for the door.

"There is no Hail Mary for you here, Echo," he said. "There is no second chance for us."

When he shut the door in his wake, I was left alone, with nothing but a broken promise and a bloody nose to show for it.

There is no second chance.

Time ticked.

Ticked.

Ticked.

_________________

Needless to say, my return didn't go well.

Ramos cleared me to go the morning of the third day, saying something or other about how she'd likely be mobbed if she didn't put me in front of Corvus as proof I still existed at all. She changed out all my bandages and told me to be cautious about the stitches for the next week, before sending Kane and I out with a bag of herbal medicine nestled beside an abnormally large canister of soup, and a warning.

"Echo." I glanced behind me. She took a look over my shoulder at Kane, who was packing up what looked to be Zahir's car on the street. She beckoned me closer. "What you brought with you, the...gun, and such." My skin went clammy. She held up a hand when I hurried to explain. "It's with me. If you direly need it, then come later, but for the time being, I'm going to hold onto it."

"Ramos—"

"You shouldn't have those on you in the Talon anyway, and you know that," she said, wagging her finger at me. "Besides, I don't trust you with them. God knows where you'll run off to given the chance. They're with me for now."

I was in no position to argue that. "All right. That's fair."

Ramos hummed. She gestured at the stairs. "Get some rest, okay? I'll come by tomorrow to check on you."

"You don't have to, Ramos," I promised. "Really."

She waved me off. "What's my job?" she said with a small laugh. "It'll be all right, Echo. I'll see you tomorrow." She ushered me towards the street. "Before your team breaks the gate down."

I flexed my aching fingers at that and nodded. "Thank you," I said, and turned to leave.

Zahir, Kane, and Meredith were standing by the car, chattering away about something that seemed to be particularly irritating to Kane as he swatted whatever they said away time and time again. Meredith seemed to be in darker spirits with her pinched expression too, and only softened upon turning to me.

She gasped. "Oh, my God, Echo."

I tugged at the collar of Ramos's loaned THE CURE shirt, which did little to hide the state I was in, which did little for my welfare in general. I waved. "Hi."

Zahir gaped at me as if he'd seen a ghost. He closed his mouth, opened it again, then shook his head, cursing under his breath. "Jesus Christ, Echo," he muttered. 

Kane tilted his head at the backseat. "Get in," he told me. 

Meredith held her hands awkwardly out at me, like she feared I'd collapse right then and there. "Are you okay? Did you eat, or if you want something to drink—if you want a jacket, we can—"

"It's okay," I promised. "I'm not helpless."

She pursed her lips. "But, still, you..."

"I'm okay." 

Zahir held open the door. "I can help you in."

"Zahir—"

"Let me help you in," he rephrased.

No position. Not even a slim one. I let him help me in.

We rode back in a silence so stiff I swore it had an exoskeleton. Kane was staring at his phone for most of it, his face steeled into something alarmingly cold. I tapped him.

He whipped his head to me. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I was gonna ask you."

Kane shut his phone off. "Nothing." He gestured at my T-shirt. "Aren't you cold?"

I shrugged. "It's warm in the car."

"You're cold?" Meredith and Zahir both hurried.

"I have a jacket in the back," Zahir said.

"I have a jacket on right now," Meredith added.

"Take both."

"Yeah, take both. Wait, put mine on first."

"Put mine on and then put hers, mine is lined."

"Mine is fur."

"So is mine."

"Mine is vegan."

"What is happening?" I said.

Kane tossed a jacket into my lap. Cerulean blue wool, the threads thick and soft. He said, "Just wear that. For fuck's sake, if you two are trying to de-stress him, you're going about it the wrong way."

They both shrank at that reprimand. Zahir frowned, muttering something about it not even being a real jacket.

I stared at the cardigan. I said, "You brought it?"

He hesitated. "It's the only one you ever actually wanted," he said. "Figured you'd want it now."

I pushed my bruised knuckles against my heart. I attempted to put it on, but the stitches pulled in protest and I ended up crumbling against the leather seats instead. 

"Echo?" Meredith whirled around. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Fine," I wheezed out, holding my stomach. "I'm fine. It's fine."

A hand pushed me up by my chest. I took in a shuddering gasp. Kane said, "Stop." 

I swallowed. I inhaled a slow breath. Zahir had hastily pulled over somewhere, and him and Meredith seemed ready to hop out of the car right at that moment. Zahir looked between me and Kane.

"Are...is he okay? Should we go to the hospital, or Ramos—"

"It's fine," I pressed. "I just moved too fast."

Kane pushed me upright. He took the other sleeve of the cardigan and tentatively threaded my arm through it, careful not to pull. He fixed it over my shoulder, and gave a heavy sigh.

"Let's go," he said to Zahir.

"Echo—"

"Faster we get back, the better," he said. 

Zahir took that with a reluctant breath. He returned to the wheel. 

I clutched at the sleeves of the cardigan, watching nascent November bloom in crevices of the city. Avaldi braved the earthy winds and trekked across the fallen leaves littering the streets. The first week of November was upon us. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I closed my eyes.

I stood in front of Corvus, the lot of them gathered in the guys' room. They stared at me, then at each other, then at me again. 

I held up my hands at them and said, "Before anyone says anything, I just wanna say, it was a very, very steep hill."

Rosalie clapped her hands together from her place in the kitchen. "That's it," she snapped, and grabbed the nearest weapon-shaped thing in her vicinity, which happened to be a whisk. "Come here. Come here, you fucking Candyland peppermint pimp bastard!"

I bolted as she came charging, all aches and pains thrown to the wind. I shoved past Diego and skidded around the couch, ducking under Zahir's outstretched arms.

"Stop! Ceasefire! Ceasefire!" he cried, lurching for Rosalie.

"She's got a whisk!" Zoe screamed as she lunged for Rosalie and missed, falling against the couch. "She's got a whisk!"

"Diego! Stop her!" Wynter snapped.

"Stopping, stopping!" Diego planted himself in front of her, darting left and right to block her path. 

Rosalie aimed her whisk at him. "Move your ass or I shove this up it."

"Ay, loca, put the whisk down, we can talk, yeah?" he tried. "No one needs to get hurt."

"Am I really a whisk away from the fucking grave?" I breathed to Zahir.

"You're definitely a Rosalie away," he told me. He pointed at her. "Hey, hey, whisk on the loose! Kenzo, grab her!"

Kenzo put a hand up. "Let her feast."

"What," I said.

Rosalie whirled a wild whisk on me. "Echo."

I skittered away. "Hey, hey, man. Let's be civil here."

"Let the poor kid live, he's a wee babe," Diego placated. "Poor thing hasn't even seen the big, wide world."

"Oh," Rosalie breathed, gesturing at me with her weaponized whisk. "I think he's seen plenty."

"Now that just makes me sound easy," I said.

"I'll whisk you to fucking bits real easy."

"O-kay." Zahir snagged her by the back of her shirt. "I'll say it once and I'll say it with fearful bravery. Put. The whisk. Down."

"I bite," Rosalie hissed.

Zahir glanced at me, then her, then said, "Sorry, kid."

"Oh, no, Zahir, don't you—"

He let her go. Rosalie said, "You're a dead wolf."

I clambered over the couch, nearly falling over Meredith and tripping on the leg of the coffee table in my haste. Meredith rushed to hold Rosalie, but tripped over me instead, and subsequently fell into Diego instead. 

"Abandon ship!" he shouted as he went careening back.

Rosalie shoved them all onto the couch and raised her whisk high, pointing at me. I screamed. She screamed. Kenzo said, "Stop screaming."

"It's my life!" I cried as I slid across the hardwood.

"About to be mine, fucker!" she snapped.

All of Corvus bolted after her as they shouted. I crossed the threshold of the entrance, and headed for the only escape route of the front door. I almost laughed.

I turned my head. "Not anymo—"

The door swung open, and with it, came the king.

I skidded to a stop so fast that the sheer momentum sent me tumbling forward head-first. My foot caught on the threshold and I careened left. With no other option than to accept the incoming floor's embrace, I closed my eyes and waited.

Kane grabbed my shoulders and stopped me halfway. He said, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I cracked open an eye. I looked up at him. I said, "God?"

If he was unamused before, he was irritated now. Kane hauled me upright and pushed me back inside. 

Meredith came rushing for us. "Are you okay?" she asked me, then glanced at Kane. "Where were you?"

He paused. "Phone call," he said, then glanced to me. The glare he sent was less than gracious. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Whisk," Meredith and I said.

"What?"

"Echo Yun, you fucking gumdrop-haired teacup meerkat-looking motherfucker, get your mummy-wrapped flat ass over here now or so help me—King?" 

Rosalie screeched to a stop, along with the rest of Corvus, upon spotting Kane in the doorway. She held the whisk aloft between them, seemingly indecisive on whether she would take both of us out or abort. I inched behind Kane and said, "See?"

Kane raised a brow at her. She looked between the whisk and me, then said, "It's not like that."

"It's so like that," I argued. "It's exactly like that."

"You snitch," she snapped. "

"It's so like that that it is that."

"Come here—"

Kane snagged her wrist mid-air. He yanked the whisk from her clutches, and sent a look that threatened to scathe the very skin off of his team's bodies. 

"Are you in middle school? Is this the arcade hosting the afterschool club? Do you need a chaperone, a fucking yard duty?" he snapped. Kane rubbed at his temples. He ushered me forward. "Get inside. Before one of your limbs falls off."

I muttered under my breath that that wasn't how limbs even worked in terms of ligaments and connective tissue, but Kane seemed ready to beat my head in with the whisk himself, so I bit my tongue and went in. If I was readying myself for a fight before, I was bracing myself for a battle now.

Kane tossed the whisk into the sink and sighed. Rosalie crossed her arms and sat on the couch, fitfully indignant. She said, "I regret nothing."

"Congrats," he snapped. "What the hell happened?"

"I'd like to ask you that," she retorted. "What happened, Kane? It seems like you know better than any of us."

Kane stood beside me, across the coffee table from Corvus. His skin was blotted with shadows, pale and barely brushed with color. The silver had grown fast through his roots, pushing out the dye into the tips of his waves.

"I'd like to ask that too, frankly," Wynter said, her face uncertain. "We wake up to a team meeting just to stumble upon Echo looking like he went five rounds with Bigfoot over the past few days. What in the hell did we miss now?"

"And what do we keep missing?" Diego added with an exasperated sigh. "Cobayo, you're getting more and more harrowing with the days."

"You're not getting any better," Zahir said, glancing at Kane. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," I said. "Nothing that involves you."

Meredith looked to me. "We're worried about you, Echo," she said quietly. "We're really worried."

"Worried," Rosalie said, getting to her feet to face me. "And fucking sick of this. Everyone has their shit, fine. I get it. You don't want us getting involved in things, fine. Don't get us involved. But we're a team. We." She pointed at me. "And all you've given us is secrets and lies and everything in between."

"Rosalie," Meredith tried.

"No," she snapped. "No. I want to know why. I want to know what's going on here. There've only been more and more secrets since you got here, and I want to know why." 

The pang that hit my gut at that was all too sharp. I hung my head. 

Kane scanned Corvus over, either debating what to say or how to say it. The ache in my bones hurt, but nothing compared to the utter silence that riddled me in that moment, the writing on the wall that came with it: all you are is a secret.

"I'm sorry," he settled on. "It's my fault, for getting caught up in too many things, not talking to any of you." He sighed. "Things are high-tension right now as it is, across the board. This is a conversation to have after the season."

"Screw the season," Diego said. "You're just gonna let this go?"

"Because you know," Wynter said, "that's good enough?"

Corvus glanced amongst each other at that. Kane hesitated.

"That's not what I said," he bit back. "But I'm not really trying to have a Girl Scout circle going here right now. We need to focus on rallying and getting through Red in one piece."

"It's all about Red," Rosalie snapped. "That's all it ever comes down to. Do you see any of this, any of what's happening? Corvus splintered once, we saved ourselves by the skin of our fucking teeth. You said you'd try to build this team differently. How is this different, Kane? How is this any different than the shit you pulled the first time around?"

"I am pulling at every string out there to keep this team where it is right now," he snapped. "But there's not much of a choice on how we can proceed except focusing on getting to the end of the season. What Echo tells you is his choice, but sitting here ruminating on it as a team is not going to do anyone any good. The year is almost over."

"Look around you!" Rosalie tried, her eyes broiling, half with fury and half with desperation. "All you talk about is the season but what about what's going on right in front of you? You think it's all just going to go away the longer you pretend it's not there? We're Corvus, too. Do you even care? Do you even see what's going on?"

"What good does it do us if I do bring it up? If we get mad or we don't?" he snapped. "It changes nothing."

"Because you refuse to change it," she shot back, her eyes beading with glass and salt. "You said you'd be honest with us, but here we have to find out from Ramos that you've been lying to us about the silver for a year, now Echo comes back looking halfway to death and you expect us to go back to the track like nothing happened?"

"My job is to keep this team afloat, what do you think I've been trying to do for the last two years?" he bit back. "This is the decision. This discussion is over."

"No," Rosalie said, clenching her fists. "You can't just walk away."

"Rosalie," Meredith tried.

"What do you want from me?" Kane said, but his voice was ragged, a genuine question lingering there. "What more do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stop being such a fucking coward."

"I'm not a coward."

"No?" she hissed. "Why don't we ask Luan?"

Silence. Corpse-heavy. Bone-thick. Blood-red. 

Rosalie faltered. Kane's face was limp, shock wiping all frustration off his features, like he'd seen a ghost. Corvus had gone utterly still.

Rosalie stepped back, the frustration lingering in her face, but warring with a sudden stillness. Her knuckles pushed into her sides. Even I had felt the words like a sucker punch between the valves of my heart, every vein in my body momentarily seizing up as it registered. I looked at the hardwood, maybe just to catch my breath. 

I turned my eyes to Kane, but he was already turning away. The only sliver of his face I could see, was nothing but cold, silver steel.

"We're leaving Thursday night for Florida," he said as he headed for his room. "Check the texts for your tickets."

"King," Zahir said.

"There's no practice tonight," he added. "Take the day."

With that, the door shut in his wake, leaving Corvus in the rubble of the living room.

Rosalie buried her face in her hands. Meredith held her shoulder and glanced at me. "Get some rest, Echo. We'll talk later."

I said, "Wait, I—"

"We'll talk later," Zahir affirmed. "I think we all need to cool down for a bit. If anyone needs anything, just text."

I closed my eyes. I heard their footsteps pad out of the unit, one by one. Rosalie's faint whisper shaking in the air. Something about secrets from Zoe's remorseful mouth.

Kenzo pushed himself off the wall and headed for his room. I said, "You're not gonna ask."

Kenzo considered me. He turned away. "Why?" he said. "I don't trust your answer anyway."

I stood alone in the living room of the Talon's top unit.

November whisked me away and left my shadow to die with the leaves.

_____________________

We got three days to pretend things could be normal.

"I make one more fucking model of butanoic acid," I muttered one night, shoving my binder across the bathroom counter until teetered off the ledge, papers fluttering helplessly to the ground, "I'll need stitches in my prefrontal cortex." I leaned my head against the mirror, closing my eyes, sighing in the mourning of two AM.

"Baldwin Rule." I cracked an eye open. Kane plucked a paper from the ground, set it on the binder's face, his fingerprints bleeding black. "Do I want to know what that is?"

I hadn't seen Kane since Rosalie's and his argument the day before. I didn't know if I was relieved or not to see him once more. "Exocyclic ring closure," I said. 

Kane hummed. "That's a no." His shirt was too big for his body, hanging limp off his shoulder and falling away when he bent over to pick up the rest of the papers, miles of skin patchworked with lidocaine strips and silver poisoning. I looked away. "What are you doing up?"

"Patton's got us doing packets twice a week, I missed the last two," I explained. "Now I've gotta speed-run polymers and hydrocarbons. Something about facing the consequences."

Kane's lip twitched. He leaned against the counter. I said, "Are you all right?"

Kane shrugged. "Yes," he said. "Are you?"

"I'm alive," I replied. "Have you and Rosalie talked?"

He shrugged again and I took that as a non-answer. "Are you sleeping okay?"

I hadn't really slept at all. But I said, "Yes." What would another lie would do anyway? I was glad to be facing away from the mirror. "Are you sleeping?" I asked.

Kane took a long moment. He said, "Forget the acids, yeah?" He tilted his head towards his room. "It's late."

I forgot the acids. I followed him inside, and flicked off the light. 

Ramos had made her frequent visits, of course. Maybe for both Kane and me, even if she didn't say it.

"You're healing well," she said with a nod, dabbing away the spots of blood from the wound on my stomach. "But this being so close to where you got your beryllium poisoning means it'll take a lot longer. I'll wrap it best I can, but avoid strenuous exercise and try not to twist your body too quickly."

I nodded. I pushed myself upright. "How's Kane?"

Ramos pursed her lips. She pulled off her gloves, tossed them in the trash and patted my leg. I swung them over the exam table and pulled my shirt back on. She said, "He's hanging in there."

"Is the Valatro helping?"

"Valatro can only stem the side effects of the silver," Ramos sighed. "At some point, not even that can help."

"How far is he from that point?"

"Not far," she admitted. She faced me. "You should focus on getting better."

I pursed my lips. "Sure."

"Echo. Don't worry."

"I shouldn't have called him."

"Echo."

"Shit's going south, Ramos, you can't look me in the eye and tell me you don't see that." I turned my head up, stared her down with something like a plea. "Corvus is falling apart." Corvus is falling apart, and somehow, I felt that was my fault. Like Rosalie's words were meant for me.

Ramos gave me a look that was as forlorn as it was understanding. Like we both stood at the stern of a sinking ship, watching the water rise, the windows shatter, the doors fly open, a flood slowly coming in to devour us whole. The light was a sickly fluorescent nothingness, but it looked Olympian compared to the defeat on her face.

"You all have gone through so much," she whispered. "I hoped, maybe, you'd get another chance at a new beginning, a better chapter, after what happened with Poppy. That things would work themselves out." Ramos gave a melancholy smile. "I suppose there's only so many races you can win."

I clenched my fragile fingers. "They have a chance," I murmured. "Don't they?"

Ramos reached over to take my hands into hers. "You all do," she corrected. 

I wanted to tell her. I had to tell her. My chance was slipping and fading fast. November was a bloodbath, was the ocean pulling the boat under. I had to tell her.

"It's not over yet, Echo," she told me.

I said nothing.

I sat down on the track, two days before we were to leave for Florida, the cool of the evening soaking the concrete to its bones. I zipped up the jacket until it encased me up to my chin and shoved my hands into the pockets. Being holed up in the Talon with nothing but make-up work and medicine to accompany me could only hold me over for so long, after all. That, and the tension building up between Corvus wasn't making anyone's life any easier. Less than a year ago, the Corvidae had been the last place that provided any peace to my head. Now, it felt like the only untainted haven I had left.

My shallow cuts and scratches had healed over by the third day, although the bullet wound was stubbornly sore and my stitches were to come out in the next twenty-four-hour cycle. Thanksgiving was a creeping beast coming up around the corner, eliciting all plagues of holiday celebrations to freely infest the Birdhouse or surrounding town avenues and squares. It pasted itself on the doors of the Talon in autumn wreaths or faux pumpkins, on the walls of restaurant windows in amber lights or garish cartoon turkey posters, even on the Corvidae walls with holiday-special sponsor banners. 

I'd never participated in any type of holiday cheer, all things considered. My life hadn't really carved out any mind for it. I'd always stood on the outskirts of holidays, content to watch and wonder. It wasn't like there was anyone there for me to celebrate alongside with.

I sat in the dark quiet, maybe just to soak up what little I could of the Corvidae for as long as I could. The wind was brisk on the nape of my neck, biting at my fingers where they pressed a Lucky Strike to my lips. I closed my eyes. Inhaled a breath of acrid smoke and pungent nicotine. 

"It's getting colder, Umma," I whispered. "Flu season, they call it." The winter winds outside our window in Incheon came to me in a harsh gust. "Think I'll make it again?"

A crack and a voice caught my ear and yanked my head back. My cigarette fell from my fingers and I turned around too fast, before cursing at the sting that wrought my bones and clutched my side. I strained to hear the noise.

"...none of them." A girl. Vaguely familiar. "Trust me, it'll be fun. C'mon, we're only here for the week, I'm probably not gonna see you until next year." Footsteps. "I'll buy drinks?"

A click. More footsteps. I pushed myself to my feet and hurried towards the entrance tunnel to hide in the shadowed archway.

"No drinks, it's fine." Kane. My lungs seized. "Why couldn't you just do hotpot for your birthday like last time?"

"Taylor rented the place out for me. Isn't she sweet? You like Taylor." I peered through the gratings, spotted a girl in the lights. Aster. My breath dissolved. "Just come for a little while, we'd all love to see you. None of Luan's goons are gonna be there, I made sure of it. You don't even have to stay the hour." She folded her hands, her golden bangles clinking against each other and her bejeweled rings shimmering under the flickering lights. "Please? You said you'd try."

Kane's back was to me, but I could tell even from his stance there was a hesitation in his figure. Still, he seemed dressed for a party, his jacket tailored and his shoes shiny, a single silver wolf mid-pounce dangling from his ear. 

His shoe scuffed at the ground. "You're sure Luan won't be there," he repeated.

Aster held up her pinkie. "Promise. Not one trace of him."

He sighed. "All right. For a little while."

Aster clapped and grasped his left arm tight. He winced. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said. "Tyler is parked outside, let's go. Ah, you already look the best-dressed as it is. It'll be great, promise. I'll be there, Tyler, Taylor, Maya, Olive—you haven't seen Olive in years, huh? It's such a pretty set-up, supposed to be a black and white ball type of look—The Eclipse, you know, got to be on theme—and it's..."

I lost their conversation as they entered the parking lot, the gates closing behind them. I tightened my grip around the grates. My heart sang a frantic ballad in my chest.

Trust me.

"Whatever I'm thinking," I muttered, "I ought to stop."

"Ought to" is really the key phrase.

I turned around and headed through the tunnel. A sharp left, where the bikes were strapped with metal and locks. I turned my eyes past them towards a single steel door, the black sign emblazoned on it reading GARAGE. Below it, in red, warned AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

I fished out my Corvus-issued ID, and swiped it over the door handle. It lit up green. I went inside. There was only one car parked in the farthest corner, under a barely-breathing white light, the respective key hanging freely in the glass case at the other wall where someone had forgotten to close it back up in a likely-frantic hurry.

I sent a prayer to the heavens before tearing the key off its hook. 

We're probably no good together then.

No. Probably not.

I stood in front of the black Corolla. I clicked the key. It awoke with a beep.

"Tracker rules," I told myself.

I got in the car, and typed in directions to The Eclipse.

Las Aves. Northern LA County. 517,000 creatures and humans. Home of the Falcons! Weather reads: an oncoming eclipse.

The Corolla was clearly Kane's if its discordant state had anything to say about it. Someone had been driving it however, as the battery was still awake enough to run the car upon being started up and no warning lights about the oil or tires had flared when the engine rumbled alive. That being said, if not for that, you'd think its owner had undergone a tragic turn of events without precedence or resolution.

The glove compartment still had a half-empty box of tissues alongside expired registration papers, a water bottle, gum packets, and graded homework from a year or so ago. The center console was a mess of cigarette packs, empty lighters, half-empty mods, useless disposables, and a concerning amount of snack packs and candy bars, all uneaten. A silver crow dangled from the rear view mirror, reflecting an abandoned jacket and a conspicuous stack of sports magazines in the backseat. The whole car smelled like Kane, traces of special-occasion cologne,  clouds of cotton soap, and lingering cigarette smoke.

I leaned against the headrest and reached to adjust the seat.. "Clean your fucking car, man," I muttered. 

I had no time to find the humor in Kane driving a beat-up Corolla, the time between me and The Eclipse too thin for any distractions. I couldn't really think of a worse solution to following Kane than stealing his car and driving it without insurance across town to follow him to a party he didn't even want to go to, but that being said, I couldn't think of a better one either. 

I stepped on the gas. 

I'd only ever been to The Eclipse with Mercy once when I was sixteen, and I hadn't even gone inside. The only thing I recalled was the shape of its appearance, a black clubhouse two stories tall and caverns deep, the rooftops indigo and the lights pale blue, the windows wide as thrones and its surrounding pool large enough to rival the Olympics. My rival would be the gates that blocked off unwarranted visitors, and Kane himself.

9:09 PM -  The Little Mermaid

Echo !
Are you at Talon?
Diego made some food for us :DD want to join?

9:10 PM - kenzo

where r u two

I ignored both texts.

"Fourteen miles to your destination," the GPS announced. "Take a left onto Arroyo Drive."

Aster Young was turning twenty one. But you only knew that with an invite.

It wasn't very difficult to find the party once I crested the hills of Las Aves. If you didn't catch the glaring white and black balloons, the garishly gold streamers, the cardstock signs leading visitors through the winding roads one Sharpie arrow at a time, then maybe you'd follow the booming sound of bass-riddled music, the screaming young adults going between low-class decisions and upper-class drinks, the stomping heels or leather-toed boots rattling the mountains off their axises, or you could simply follow the scent of vodka mixed in with sweet treats and candy lip-gloss, the smell of pungent cologne and white frosting, the taste of glitter on your tongue, the sight of canines going wild. 

With an invite, that is.

I parked the Corolla in a neighborhood below and followed the sounds of the party upward. I made it up to the black gates blocking off entry on all sides of the clubhouse, guards posted on every square foot, partygoers coming in and out with silks and studs to show for it. I glanced down at my hoodie and jeans. Dress codes were never my strong suit, it seemed.

I rounded the area until I closed in on the entrance. I slid up beside a guard, and peered over towards the lanes of cars ready to either park or drop off. 

I clenched my fists. "Fucking lycans. So dramatic."

The guard said, "Seriously."

"Seriously," I said.

"Serious—Echo?"

I looked up.

Ian Gray stared down at me, clad in a black suit and a flimsy name tag reading SECURITY in scratchy black. He gaped. He looked me up and down. He said, "You're...not in dress code."

I cursed everything right down to the molecules. This was my consequence for getting to know people. Fuck that shit to its core. 

"No," I acknowledged. "But I'm wasn't really invited, so I don't know if the dress code applies to party crashers."

"Party crashers? Hell, man, you're a party-saver," he laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. "What are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes. "And why do you look like someone just ran you through a blender?"

"Complicated, and not important." I gestured at the clubhouse. "What're you doing here? Spare cash?"

"Hey, UCI doesn't do that badly. I am spare cash," he said with a laugh, waving me off. "I owe Aster a solid."

"How do you know Aster?"

"I'm dating her cousin. It's partially why I owe her, actually." At my quizzical face, Ian shooed it away. "It's a whole thing. Better question is, how do you know Aster?"

"I...think she used to be Kane's friend," I admitted. 

"Kane? King?" Ian said, and lit up. "I saw him on the list, he's here? Hey, do me a solid and—"

"I get you anything you want from Kane and you get me into this party," I finished. 

Ian frowned. "Why didn't you just come with him if you need to get in? Aster would've let you, even in—" He gestured at me as a whole. "—creative attire."

"Thanks," I deadpanned. 

"Did you re-do your hair? Again? Looks like Airheads."

"Focus, Ian," I snapped, the guest line dwindling by the minute. I gestured at The Eclipse, the music growing louder, the screams getting braver. "Kane can't know I'm here—not now, at least. Can you get me in?"

Ian considered me. I waited for him to fire more questions, but he remained quiet. After a few beats, he said, "I can. But you're gonna need to look less conspicuous than that if you wanna stay in."

"I didn't bring clothes."

He chewed the inside of his lip. "Aster's cousin and you are similar sizes. You might fit into something of hers. She left a spare outfit in my trunk."

"Hers?" I repeated. "What kind of outfit?"

Ian smiled and patted my head. "We'll have to see, yeah?"

On second thought, maybe I should have left Kane to fend for himself.

"This is a skirt," I said to Ian. "This is a skirt and you're lying to yourself."

"It's a skort," he corrected pointedly. "How's the top?"

"Missing fabric, that's fucking what," I snapped. The wind wasn't helping either, all the exposed skin leaving plenty for November's chill to latch onto and suck the heat off of. I crossed my arms, the sparkling silk scratching at my wrists. Aster's cousin couldn't have packed a nightgown? There were far too many straps and far too little panels of actual fabric for anyone to be comfortable in this. "You fucking bastard. I look like a goddamn fae princess in this shit."

"Whoa, confidence. Shoulders back. Show off those arms."

"I'll show you something."

Ian held up his hands. "I'm getting you into this party, aren't I? Nothing good comes for free, kid." He slapped my bare back and I screeched. "If it's of any consolation, your legs look great."

"You're giving me a migraine just by speaking," I huffed. I yanked the skirt down and pointed at him. "Take this to your grave, man. To your grave and below."

Ian smiled. "No promises." He pointed up at the gates. "Come on. Let's party, yeah?"

I closed my eyes and shivered.  "Yeah," I muttered.

I took my keys and my phone and shoved them both into my boots.

To my grave.

That goes for you, too.

The Eclipse was not to be trifled with, it seemed.

I'd walked into a tsunami of black and white, an endless vat of young adult chaos fueled by mixed drinks and socio-economic superiority. Whatever room I'd waltzed into was decked out in a full-service bar, a beveled neon dance floor, sleek hardwood stained with the night's wrongdoings. A blaring black string of balloons read HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY ASTER on it in bright white glitter.

Ian grabbed my arm. "Let's go upstairs," he said.

I let him drag me through the wild crowd until we found the other wall. I slid under flailing arms and handsy gumiho until we found the second floor, where the windows had let in the moonlight.

"King's probably gonna be with Aster," he said. "Inner circle and all. They're on the third..."

He trailed off, his phone pinging his attention to it instead. I turned my head around to scan the room, which was attempting to imitate a casino set-up, round tables set up with anything from waiters to dealers, canines of all kinds seated about the plush booths with flutes in one hand and cards or clandestine gossip in the other. A few turned curious gazes on me, either inquiring about the outfit or the damages or both. I figured I must have looked like a junkyard doll dressed in a taffeta gown.

Ian grimaced. "I gotta go," he said. "I'm sorry, something's going on outside. I'll come back for you later, though."

I shook my head and crossed my arms tighter over my chest. "It's fine. Thanks for getting me in."

He flashed a grin. "Anytime, Yun. Stay out of trouble for a night, yeah?"

With that, he spun on his heel and headed down the stairs, leaving me to the wolves.

I willed myself to pretend as though I wasn't ready to slit my own throat as I slithered through the tables in my god-awful get-up, although lingering eyes and questioning stares were not doing much to help. I swiveled my head about the crowds, trying to spot a familiar face. Third floor. The stairs had never seemed so far. Especially considering I never even made it to them.

My elbow slid too far into a man's back and I tripped on my own feet. I wobbled, arms faltering to catch myself. A hand caught my forearm to steady me.

"Excuse me," the man said, smooth as rolling river water. "Are you all right?"

I froze. The voice stilled my body to impenetrable granite. I held my breath. I didn't dare look up. Wrong face. Definitely the wrong fucking face. 

"Fine," I breathed, snagging my arm back. 

Luan said, "Oh, my. Are you okay? You don't look well."

"Perfect," I tried, willing my feet to move. But they dragged too slow, my heels trekking through molasses. "Peachy, really. Thank you."

"Are—"

I pushed past a pair of women in my haste to get by, sending them tipping into Luan. I took his shout of surprise as the key code to book it. I urged my body forward, rushing for the stairs as fast as I inconspicuously could. My vision was a never-ending spiral slide. Aster had promised Luan and his friends wouldn't show. If they were here now, they weren't authorized to be. They weren't here for any good reasons.

I had to find Kane.

The stairs were a sweet haven that I didn't hesitate to go bounding up, not even caring for the stares or the glances sent my way. It wasn't until I hit the end of the dark ballroom that made up a maze of the third floor that I bothered to even catch my breath.

I slumped against the wall. My tracker mission had started iffy, sure, but I'd severely underestimated the scale of this so-called birthday party. If I was a dumbass before, I was a downright idiotic fuck now. But if Luan was here, and neither Aster nor Kane knew it, then it was  a matter of who got to who first, and when. And if Kane left alone, with Luan still in the building... 

I pushed myself upright. The ballroom was half a floor for far more conservative and casual dancing and half beveled tables for groups to sit and chatter about under the forgiving lack of light. Bars were set up on all four corners, preparing drinks in black vests, scanning the floor for any troublemakers or viable broken hearts to suck dry. It meant the sparkling chandeliers and hazy white lights made the ambiance all the more elegant. It also meant I couldn't see for shit who was who and what was what.

But I could hear.

A shrieking cackle broke the air in two and I whipped my head to the farthest table in the back, raised high above the others, surrounded by black rails and lit up under a blaring red light. Girls and guys alike were seated about the enormous round table, bottles were strewn over half-eaten plates and tapas, their voices carrying far enough to overpower the music lilting in the air. A shock of black hair and the hint of an obnoxious, bejeweled party crown gave way to Aster's face.

I shoved myself off the wall, heading up the stairs. I heard Luan's voice in my ears like hearing a bullet without earmuffs. I slinked against the wall, the shadows milky and pliant, and waited just below the railings to listen in. You're more of a liar than you look.

"King has good stories, King always has good stories!" Aster pressed. "You all are so mean. If he talks as good as he races..."

"If you talked as well as you raced, King, you'd have gone through a lot more heartbroken lycans, you know what I mean?" a man said, and threw his head back with a drunken laugh. 

"Oh, he's gone through plenty," a girl squeaked back. "Like we'd know what he was up to, going on and ghosting us for a whole two years! Aster, quit chatting like it's your birthday, I want the scoop on the king himself!"

"'Tis my birthday, bitch," she replied pointedly. "And I say, no one gets the scoops on nothing. Quit badgering him. Drink and be silenced. Hey, write that down, make me a T-shirt."

"The king himself," a boy repeated. "I really thought you were bullshitting us with that name for a while, to be frank."

"Shut up, Frankie. Hey, King, I'm not kidding, you got anyone on the side?"

"Shut up, Jae. Hey, King, how's it being the big bad wolf of college racing now?"

"Shut up, Kendra. Hey, King, why'd you go and ditch us, man?"

I craned my neck.

Kane was seated on the far right, Aster on his left and an unknown man on his right. He looked as uncomfortable as he'd sounded when they first left, and I had the feeling that face hadn't left him for the entire night. My stomach twisted.

"Life...got busy," he explained. "I didn't know how to talk to you."

"'Hello' works," Kendra said, elbowing him.

Kane shrugged. "I guess."

"Up and better than us then?" Jae said.

Kane frowned. "I didn't say that."

"Too distracted," another girl piped.

"I'd be distracted with all the winning," a man added with a snicker.

"All the riches! All the lovesick lycans?"

"Remember when Kane was one of those? Ow." The man frowned at Aster, who sent him a strangely sober look.

Kane winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess so."

"No guess, just is!" Frankie patted him on the back. "Where's the honesty, King? Come on. Trust."

A notification pinged a phone awake on the far table. No one seemed to notice it from their own noise and the surrounding party's chaos. I peered closer. Kane's phone. A Mandarin name for a contact. Ten missed messages from said contact.

My stomach bottomed out. I took a step towards the table, for what reason, I didn't entirely know. What I could do with Kane's phone, what threat I posed against Luan, wasn't very much. But the sight of that name, the messages, hearing Luan's voice and seeing his terrible smile—I wanted it all gone as fast as possible, by any means possible.

Kane glanced at the phone and went for it. He stood up, and at the sight of a stranger reaching for his phone, swiveled his gaze right at me.

We both froze.

It took Kane a second to recognize me, his eyes squinting into my soul with accusation. It must've been the hair or the bandages, because he couldn't stop himself from sputtering out a whispered, "Echo?"

I stared back. I opened my mouth, closed it. "Maybe," I said.

All heads turned to us. A young man frowned. "Hey, lady. That's not your phone."

"Lady?" I said, then hurried. "Ah—ah, lady! My, er, apologies. This isn't the right table."

"Hey, you look familiar," a girl piped, pointing at my face. "Do you race?"

"Me? No. No! Hate it. Wretched sport. For bastards, really. The lot of them." I cleared my throat. 

"Then what the hell happened to your face?" another man inquired.

I opened my mouth to shoot back an answer but Kane was already grabbing his phone, and with it, my arm. He shoved past the table to make a beeline for the stairs. "Come with me," he hissed.

"Hey, don't take her all for yourself, King!" a man cackled. 

"Shut up, Darren," Aster said. "King! King, come back here right—"

Kane wrenched open the nearest door in the vicinity, which just happened to be an out-of-use corner bar, slamming it shut in our wake and muffling all noise with it. He flicked on the light, the dim amber washing over the dusty room. Kane faced me, half-vexed and half-infuriated. It was becoming a familiar expression.

I held up my hands. "You should know that this," I said, and gestured at my outfit, "was not my first choice."

"Echo," Kane said carefully. "What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck are you doing here?"

"Okay, before you get mad, I promise I am here for good, wholesome reasons and not what you might be assuming, so let's just clear that part up," I said, holding up my hands. 

Kane made several helpless gestures before he took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "All right, regale me. About these good and wholesome reasons. Which are the last two adjectives I'd probably associate with you under any circumstances."

I paused. I glanced at his phone. "Why is he still texting you?"

Kane stared. "What?"

"Luan," I said, and Kane faltered. "Why is he still texting you?"

Kane sighed before shoving his phone in his pocket. "That's not important. Tell me what's going on—and how the hell you even got here in the first place, and why the hell you're dressed like that."

"Not my first choice," I reminded. "And maybe it's not, but I thought you stopped talking to him."

Kane rubbed his temples. "Things between Luan and I are complicated, all right? And it's none of your business anyway," he sighed. "It doesn't matter, he's not here right now. Tell me what you're doing here. If you're here on work, Echo—"

"Luan is here," I said. 

Kane's face froze over in a breath. I swore I saw the blood drain right out of his veins.

"What?" he breathed.

"Luan is here," I pressed. "Look, I'm sorry I followed you, I know I'm out of line here, but it's not because I don't trust you, I just don't trust them. I overheard you and Aster talking at the Corvidae."

Kane stared. "How'd you get from the Corvidae, to here?"

I hesitated. "I have my methods."

Kane didn't seem keen on finding those said methods out. He pinched the bridge of his nose. His phone buzzed with an incoming call from the same contact. He pulled it out to stare down at it.

"I thought you two weren't talking," I said. "Is he trying to contact you?"

"Let it go, Echo."

"No," I insisted. "Why are you letting him contact you?"

He let the call ring out. Fourteen missed messages now. "Luan and I have a lot of history," Kane murmured. "I can't just cut him off. It's not that simple."

"Why not, with the shit he did to you?"

"We did a lot of shit to each other," Kane sighed. "It wasn't all his fault."

I stared at him. "Kane."

"I guess you showed up in time anyway," he sighed. "Come on. Let's go, I'll call a car. You need to get back to campus." He opened the door.

I snagged his arm. "Don't call a car."

He frowned at me. "Why not?"

"I...brought a car."

"You have a car?"

"No," I said carefully. "But you do."

Kane took a minute. Then, his entire face contorted into something that was somewhere between anger and sheer shock, but was entirely unhappy with me. He snagged me by a strap of my top.

"Echo fucking Yun," he snapped. "Did you fucking steal my fucking car?"

"And not a scratch was made, may I add," I hurried. I glanced behind him, at the table of Aster's friends, at the floor of drunken strangers, at the staircase leading down to the second floor. "I'm sorry."

"Stop talking, just stop talking." Kane buried his face in his hands. "Un-fucking-believable. Where are the keys?"

"It sounds a lot worse than it is."

"No, it's as worse as is it is," he hissed. "Come on. We're leaving."

I glanced over his shoulder.

The Han twins ascended the stairs, smiles like steel, suits like diamonds. Behind them, Baluyot, Luan, and four other lycans I didn't recognize followed after. Their eyes swept across the ballroom, looking for a victim to tear limb from limb.

My lungs went up in flames, burned my heart to its valves. "Shit," I muttered.

Kane turned around. He said, "What?"

"Nothing," I said. I grabbed his hand. "Let's go this way."

"Echo—"

I dragged him down the stairs and towards the dance floor. I'd barely made it to the crowds though, before a ribbon went fluttering down on his shoulders from above, stopping him in his tracks.

Aster leaned over the railing and pointed a finger at him. "Ya," she called. "You didn't even say bye! What gives, King?"

Kane winced for a far different reason than why I was wincing. He raised a hand. "Bye, Aster. I've just got somewhere to be."

"You say that all the time! Say bye like you mean it."

"Goodbye."

"Again."

"Jeez, all right, happy birthday, I'll talk to you later," he said. 

I turned my head. Amidst the dark shadows, the faded lights, the crystals and the crowns, Luan stared right back at me.

Kane turned his eyes on me. "All right, where'd you park the car?"

"Let's go the other way," I said.

"What?"

"Just follow me," I urged.

I shoved through the crowd with frantic hands and a force so sudden it made my wounds ache. But the party was too packed in, the air too thick and the bodies too intertwined, for us to reach the door in time. 

Kane screeched to a halt and yanked me back with him. A body shoved itself between us before I could manage to hold tight to his hand, and I was too late.

Luan's gaze had no mirth, no humor, and no good intentions. He said, "Kitae, in the flesh."

Luan stood in a dark green suit, his hair combed back, his expression too easy to host such dark eyes. They glinted at us like knives when he smiled. That dark green suit. The banquet came back to me like a speeding Maserati.

Yubaek Han leaned over his shoulder and winked. "Kitae in the flesh," he said with a snicker. "Ah, Kane King, I misspoke. Spare me?"

Kane didn't speak. He stared at them as if a team of executioners had arrived. He stepped around them and in front of me, but he trembled where he stood. Just the sight of him seemed to make him ill.

"You're not supposed to be here," he whispered.

"Ah, come on, Kane," Luan drawled. "Where's my 'hello'?"

"You," Kane repeated carefully, "shouldn't be here."

"So quick to bite," he muttered. "We can't wish Aster a happy birthday?"

"She doesn't want you here."

"Aster's finicky," he said, waving it away. He sent the crowd a look, then switched to Mandarin. "I messaged you. Let's talk?"

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"Liar. You do. Let's talk. I'll buy you a drink."

"I don't drink."

"So you say. Where's the Kane who could bankrupt a bar in a night? I remember when you were fun," he laughed, and Kane shifted like just the words alone unnerved him. Luan cocked his head, and his gaze went slightly soft, a look that was entirely too personal to be made in haste. "You're so cold these days, xīngān."

Kane flinched at the unfamiliar term. He took a step back, pushing me towards the bar. His voice was pained. "You should leave."

"Not without a conversation. What's so bad about a conversation?" Luan asked. He reached for him. 

Kane snatched his body away as if Luan held a hot coal in his hand. Luan twitched, but kept his hand between them. His laugh was annoyed.

"What's with that?" he muttered. 

"Leave, Luan," Kane said, his head down.

"Hey, King!" Baluyot called. "You're not even nice enough to say hi? You've lost some manners being with your crows."

"I came to see you," Luan pressed. "You said you'd try and make it here. Figured you'd like to talk to me, too."

"I've got nothing to say."

"You seem to have a lot to talk about with your new toy," he said. His face was still calm, but there was a venom in his voice. 

"I didn't say anything," Kane snapped, and my gut wrenched.

"Let's not fight," Luan whispered. "I hate fighting. So loud. Xīngān." He reached, grasped Kane's wrist, held it with a quiet ferocity. Kane didn't pull away. My blood boiled something fierce. "What're you so scared of?"

Fuck the easy way out of this.

I pushed Kane aside, stepping forward. I grabbed Luan's arm and shoved him back, where he fell against Yugyeom Han. The crowd parted, made way for a brewing fight. Luan turned a look on me that could freeze Hell twice over.

I stood in front of Kane. "He said, leave."

Baluyot sneered. "What in the hell are you?" he said. "Yun? Didn't take you for the sparkly type."

"Not my first choice," I snapped. "And there's really only enough room for disaster by one partycrasher, so you all can see yourselves out. You took your shot, he said no. If you missed all the hints he gave you before, he doesn't want to talk to you." I leaned in towards Luan. "Get the hell out of this party."

Kane grabbed my shoulder. "Don't start anything," he said in my ear. "Leave it. Let's go."

Luan's face twisted. He righted himself, shoving Yugyeom into his brother. He gave Kane an icy look. "You didn't want us here," he snarled low in his throat, "because you were busy parading around your new pet dog?"

"He's not a dog," Kane snapped. "II'm not parading around anything, we're leaving."

"Like hell." Luan grabbed his arm. "You think you can cut me off at the root and trade me in for some cheap Stirling runt without me saying something about it? Who the hell are you? This Kane King character has some serious attitude issues, don't you think?"

"Let go," he hissed.

Luan's smile was wicked. "You must feel so powerful, captain of Corvus, new accessories for display," he snapped. "A true crow king."

Kane pulled his arm back harder. "Let go."

Luan wrenched him into his body, Kane's frame knocking against him. Luan's grip was so tight his fingers shook with the effort to hold on. A wave of pain knocked into Kane's expression, a blackened fear grappling his gaze. Like a school boy being struck by the book. Like a child.

 "You fuck him?" he hissed. "You must be if he's willing to put on that shit just to come to your rescue. So fucking precious. You must love it. You must be such a pro by now." His grip tightened. Kane flinched, contorted with the pressure. Luan's friends faltered, Yubaek and Yugyeom glancing at each other with fracturing smiles. "You must've learned it from me."

There was a strange fury that grew in me, hot as magma and raging like a witch hunt. It was a black thing, a blinding blaze of sulfuric acid and fluorine, racing up my throat and through my tendons with a voracious hunger. I clenched my fists until it gathered in my metacarpals.

I reached into my boot, and withdrew Kane's car key.

Okay, I can play the key game, the key game, the key game. 

I held it between my knuckles. The only ridges sat at the end, tiny divots, but metal nonetheless. I headed straight for Luan.

Okay, I can play the key game.

And sliced it across his wrist.

The cry was immediate, a piercing thing that punctured the skin of the party and popped it altogether. He dropped Kane's wrist, clutching his own to his chest. I hadn't hit the artery. But I'd come close enough to buy us some time.

I grabbed Kane's arm. "Come on."

I tugged him behind me and weaved through the crowd like racing through a pole series. But I was too slow, because Kane was tumbling away from me in only seconds, thrown by an angry set of hands. The same set that wrenched me around to face them.

Baluyot glowered. "You're gonna regret that move, Yun."

"Tell me about it," I said.

His fist was fast, and my dodge only just saved my kidneys. His knuckles sank into my already-tender rib, and I crumbled to the ground on the impact with a groan. His foot came up to sink into my chest.

Kane leapt over me, grabbing Baluyot in a fierce hug that took them both to the ground in a ricocheting thud. Baluyot swung for Kane's face and struck his cheek square on, but Kane's fist was already flying and clocked the lycan right in the center of his unprotected chin. Baluyot coughed, head snapping back, before going still.

Kane scrambled to his feet and held out his hand to me. "Echo—"

A bloody hand closed around his throat and yanked him sideways. Luan slammed him against the nearest available surface, which happened to be the bar, the glowing countertop now marred by broken drink glasses, spilled martinis, and Luan's dripping blood.

I held my ribs and hauled myself to stand. Luan's eyes were a perfect purple, a royal murder in them. Kane gasped. Sputtered. Clutched his bleeding wrist.

"Shitty move, Kitae," he snarled. "Leash your dog."

"He's not...a dog," Kane gasped. 

I snagged a whiskey glass from a screeching woman's hand and bolted. I smashed it against Luan's head. He faltered and stumbled back from the bar. Kane rolled off of the countertop, his hand sinking right into broken glass. He cursed violently. 

I tried, "Kane—"

He shook his head. "Get the key!" he snapped.

I turned my head. The key sat abandoned beside a stool. I spun on my heel and made a desperate lurching leap to get it.

Arms grabbed me by the waist. A hand clapped itself under my jaw and yanked my head up so fast I swore it crushed my spine in with it. My entire body slammed right into the unforgiving wood of a pillar, and I felt every cut and bruise and stitch on my body screech in burning pain.

Luan said, "A little pet, so far from home." The scent of blood wafted into my nose and I gagged on it. The cuts on my body. The blood dripping from his wrist. The heat. I tried to open my mouth to scream, but he'd clamped it shut. "A Class III Stirling Omega, playing king with the hot shots. You're fucking pathetic. A joke on legs. I should've broken your jaw the first time around."

I tore my head free from his grip. "Yeah," I breathed. "You should've." I sank my boot into his shin.

Luan didn't release me but crumpled over with a shout of pain. I tilted my head back. "Am I pathetic?" I scoffed. "You're a graduated nobody, with no job and no IPRA offers, chasing a guy who doesn't want you with friends that don't even like you. The only reason you're clinging to Kane is because he's the only good thing you've got left under your thumb. You're not doing this because you want him. You're just scared he's gonna leave you." I wrenched my other hand free and grabbed Luan by the back of his hair. "But the joke is on you because he already fucking has."

Luan punched me in the stomach. He crushed his fingers into my throat and pushed the air out of my esophagus. "A low-class social hazard, with no money to his name, not even a sponsor to bet a dime on you," he hissed. "You think there's any chance in Hell he'd choose you over me?"

I gave him my best sneer with what little breath I had left, full of venom, full of snow. "What's wrong?" I coughed. "Worried you finally lost the leash on your pet? You scared he's got someone better to do?"

Luan's grip tightened. My vision buzzed. "Shut up."

"What's wrong? You said it yourself." I slowly raised my hand behind his head, fingers vying for his neck. "He does fuck me damn well," I snarled. "So what would he need you for?"

Luan's fangs were deadly as knives now, and his snarl promised blood. I grabbed him by the back of his neck, but my fingers had no grip that was any match against his. He raised his hand, claws sprouting from his knuckles. Like scalpels, ready to slice me into bits. I closed my eyes.

But the slice never came.

Hands yanked me out of Luan's grip and sent me sprawling onto the granite floor. I looked up through the haze of pain and heat.

Kane whirled on Luan, his eyes full of violet, his mouth filled with fangs, claws creeping out from under bleeding nail beds. He slammed his palm into Luan's throat. When Luan made no move to stop him, I looked down to see why.

A silver steak knife sat against Luan's throat, teeth out, ready to cut skin and tissue clean open. My breath disappeared. The room went deathly still.

Luan held his hands up away from Kane, the anger fading from his body into something almost like fear. There was a wild look in Kane's eyes, a sick anger, a fervent fear. Like he had been thrown into an eternal arena, him and Luan, head to head. Him or Luan. No one got out alive otherwise.

Everyone had gone perfectly still, not daring to move. Kane pushed the knife against Luan's throat, and I saw the faintest trail of blood bloom in a ribbon-thin stream.

"Kane," Luan said, very quietly. 

I got to my feet and limped towards him. I rested my hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Kane," I said, voice shaking. "Kane, stop. Stop." 

Kane held the knife there for a second longer. As if he really was debating on pulling the blade clean across his throat, on ending it all there. Him or me. Him or me. There is no other way out alive.

Finally, Kane stepped back. The knife clattered to the floor. He shook something awful, his hands splayed out in front of him. His face was unspeakable.

I grabbed the car key from the floor. "Come on," I told him. "Let's go."

Luan held his throat. His eyes were on the knife. 

I turned us towards the stairs.

We left The Eclipse without a word.

As we walked down the grass outside, heading for the ebony gates, Kane slipped off his jacket, its silver coat stained with red. He draped it over my shoulders and tugged it tight.

I said, "It's okay—"

Kane said, "Take it. Please."

I took it. We walked away from the party and back into the shadows together.

When we made it to the car, me in the driver's seat and Kane in passenger, neither of us dared to speak. The darkness had become a frigid beast eating away at our skin, our lungs, our nerve endings. The party flickered, the music muddy, the lights sickly. The air reeked of iron and sweat and cologne that wasn't Kane's.

After several minutes, Kane finally moved. He reached over and popped open the glove box. He took a box of Lucky Strikes from the back. A lighter from the console. Flicked its last flame onto the cigarette. He blew the smoke into the car's confines, content to let it infest and linger, cloud the windows, eat up his lungs. 

I started up the car. I said, "Drive?"

Kane let the cigarette rest on his lips. He was sight made of moonlight and bone-deep sorrow, bloody fists and acrid history, ink and asphalt and bad decisions. He was as real as they fucking got.

"Drive," he agreed.

And so, I drove.

(this chapter is late I know please forgive me TT hopefully its length makes up for it. thank u for ur patience and support! this was daunting to write at first but eventually got fun, albeit a bit crazy. that's this whole story, though. happy holidays :D next chapter is 'tis the season! the little star is so very happy to see you, even if a bit late)