Rhea

The Silver Stag thrummed around me—alive in the way that made everything inside my ribs feel too tight.

Stone walls curved inward like the ribs of something ancient and long-dead, runes beating along the grain like veins of light. Old Accord wards pulsed under every surface, tempering dominance spikes and heartbreak crashes before they could erupt into full-blown chaos. Antler-shaped lanterns cast golden heat across timber beams, silverleaf moss swayed overhead like it breathed with the music, and the scent—cedar smoke, fresh bread, magic-heavy florals—hit thick in the back of my throat.

The room moved as one body. Wolves, fae, even a Drakonis heir whose scales caught firelight like molten glass—everyone shifting to the enchanted band in the corner. A lute floated on invisible threads, strings plucked by light; drums hammered like a second heartbeat, vibrating straight into my sternum until the knot in my chest loosened one reckless pulse at a time.

Three drinks in and the ache wasn’t gone, but it blurred enough to almost pretend.

Moonfire Kiss. Molten silver, spiced pear and smoke. Hot enough to melt thoughts. It loosened my bones until laughter slipped out too easy.

Wolf’s Breath. Golden honey that snapped back with fangs. Colours sharpened, every glance too loud. My body started swaying before my brain caught up.

Shadowvine Ale. Purple glow, cool clarity slicing through the haze. I could smell everything—rain, pine, leather—and the wards humming in the walls tasted my emotions like predators licking their teeth.

Good. Let them. Forgetting was easier.

“Up.”

Lila’s hand snatched my wrist before I could skid deeper into my sulk. Her eyes glittered with trouble. “Don’t even argue. Tonight, you belong to me.”

“Oh, perfect,” I muttered. “Drunk cardio with emotional sabotage.”

She dragged me anyway, straight into the crush.

Music wrapped around my body, tugging my hips into movement before permission even mattered.

“Oh, Rhee.” Lila slid against me, curls bouncing. “Look around. We are the moment.”

Recklessness burned warm. I spun her, catching her hips with a smirk that hurt. “Forget rebound dance. This is a whole damn mating announcement.”

Someone whistled when she dipped me low, hair brushing my cheek. Upside down, the lanterns spun like stars and laughter tore out of me—raw but real.

Lila grinned over me. “If only I were into girls.”

“Tragic,” I said, flipping upright. “We’d run the realms.”

For a handful of songs—just for breaths—I wasn’t the ignored prayer the Moon Goddess pretended not to hear. I was just… me. Reckless. Loud. Alive.

But Shadowvine was a liar. The crash waited.

Bree appeared beside our booth and slid a tall glowing drink across the table. Turquoise fizzed like bottled starlight. “Sirensong Spritz,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Like floating, but legal.”

Should I?

No.

…maybe.

…fuck it.

One sip buzzed electric down my spine—crisp citrus, cool sweetness—and then weightlessness. My toes curled against the moonstone floor like I was about to lift off.

I set the glass down and swore I heard waves inside it. Whispering.

“This place is dangerous,” I muttered, falling into my chair. “We should move in.”

“Oh, I could live here easily,” Bree said, calm as always. Hearthlight warmed her face, grounding me. “All the good drinks. None of the drama.”

Her steady presence tugged me back enough that even when Nora’s soft laugh drifted from across the pub, it didn’t slice as deeply. She sat tucked close to Ethan—his arm around her, mate marks new and faintly glowing.

My stomach twisted, but dulled. Maybe the Spritz really was doing its job.

Then Lila caught my eye—soft for one second, sharp for the next. Mischief lit her features.

“Come on.” She was already sliding out of the booth.

I frowned. “What now?”

“Girl talk 2.0,” she said, grabbing both my wrists. “The emotionally irresponsible version. Bree will mediate. I’ll threaten violence as needed.”

Bree’s lips curved. “And I’ll slap you if you try to pretend you’re fine.”

The crimson curtain to the side lounge closed behind us, swallowing noise whole. The world dimmed into warmth.

Runes pulsed along the stone hearth with every crackle of the fire, gold light flickering across fur-draped couches. A chandelier floated overhead, candles shifting into constellations before fracturing apart again. Magic pooled thick in the corners, listening.

Lila shoved me onto a couch and folded beside me, legs crossed, gaze sharp. Bree perched across from us, composed and steady.

“Alright,” Lila said bluntly. “Spill.”

I snorted. “Spill what?”

“Don’t be cute,” she snapped, brushing her thumb over my hand even as her tone sharpened. “I saw your face when Ethan and Nora walked in. And I watched you inhale cocktails like a Drakonis lighting ceremony.”

Bree tipped her head. “We’re here. No judgment. Just us.”

The silence felt heavy but safe, like they’d carved a fortress around me just by sitting close.

Finally, I exhaled. “You ever hold onto something so long you start believing it’s yours by default? Like if you love hard enough, fate will eventually fold?”

Lila’s thumb kept tracing my knuckles. “Yeah. I know that one.”

“That was Ethan,” I whispered. “For years, I thought… maybe. And now? It’s Nora. And I know it’s not a choice. I know she didn’t want this. But it still makes me feel like the Goddess was laughing at me. Like I was stupid for hoping.”

Bree leaned in, voice soft but anchored. “Being sad doesn’t make you weak. Or cruel. Let yourself hurt. Just don’t let it turn toxic.”

My throat burned. Lila hauled me into her arms—tight, fierce, smelling like cinnamon and loyalty—and murmured against my hair, “We’ve got you. Tonight is escape. Tomorrow can deal with the fallout.”

Above us, the chandelier flared. Flames knit together into a wolf’s silhouette before scattering again. The hearth runes gulped down my emotions like they were built for this—siphoning the worst of it, containing the spike.

Magic leaned closer. Listening. Always listening.

For the first time since everything cracked open, I let myself sink into them—into Bree’s quiet steadiness, Lila’s fire-wrapped loyalty, and the wards that kept me from unraveling completely.

For tonight, I wasn’t the girl the Moon forgot.

I was just Rhea—still breathing. Still standing. Still here.