Chapter 108: Chapter One Hundred Seven
Aveyr let out a long, shaky breath as Molly cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks with that steady, grounding tenderness she always carried. Molly wasn’t just reassuring her - she was anchoring her. And Avery needed that more than she wanted to admit. Because Molly was right. Lucien had been right. Her mates had been trying for days to get her to rest, to breathe, to stop living in the shadow of the last attack. Ever since Lucien had been hurt, Avery’s nerves had been strung tight as wire, every sound a threat, every flicker of magic a warning.
This week was supposed to be her reset.
Her chance to feel normal again.
To laugh. To play. To be young.
Not the prophecy girl.
Not the future queen.
Just Avery.
And the vision — while unsettling — wasn’t screaming danger. It was more like a tug, a whisper, a worry she could revisit later.
So she let Molly’s warmth sink in.
Let the kisses soften her tension.
Let the murmured assurances melt the last of her resistance.
By the time they stepped out of the quiet salon, Avery’s smile was bright and real again.
As they walked back toward the hall, Kael’s voice brushed through their minds, warm and familiar.
Kael (linking): You two okay? You disappeared fast.
Avery answered honestly.
Avery (linking): I had a vision. It wasn’t dangerous, just… worrying. Molly reminded me this week is supposed to be for rest.
There was a beat of silence — then Kael’s relief washed through the link.
Kael: Good. You deserve the break. We’ve got you. Always.
Then, because he was Kael —
because he couldn’t resist —
because chaos was his love language—
A mental image flashed across the bond.
A wicked, unmistakable image of what he and the guys had planned for later tonight, once the game was over and they were all alone in their room.
Avery squeaked.
Molly choked on a laugh.
Both of them flushed scarlet.
Avery (linking, flustered): KAEL!
Kael: What? Motivation helps with relaxation.
Lucien (joining the link, smug): I told him to wait until later.
Riven (dryly): He never waits.
Avery covered her face with her hands, giggling helplessly. Molly looped an arm around her waist, laughing just as hard.
Molly: “They’re impossible.”
Avery: “And we love them.”
They shared one more soft kiss before stepping back into the hall — cheeks pink, hearts lighter, and anticipation humming between them like a secret.
The moment Avery and Molly slipped back into the hall, the atmosphere snapped right back into character. Guests were buzzing, rumors flying like sparks, and Riven had finally managed to corner the two men who had been trying very hard to blend into the wallpaper.
Lucien and Kael stood shoulder-to-shoulder, both wearing the exact same expression; I am innocent, but also extremely suspicious, please don’t look at us…
Riven crossed his arms, looming over them with the full weight of his detective persona.
Riven: “You two have been avoiding me.”
Kael: “Avoiding? No. Strategically relocating.”
Lucien: “We’re cooperating. Just… from a distance.”
Riven’s eyes narrowed.
Lucien and Kael shared a look that said we are so bad at this.
Across the hall, Theron and Selene lingered in a dark corner, whispering animatedly. They weren’t plotting murder — just strategizing how to deliver the final act of the game with maximum drama.
Selene smirked.
Selene: “Honestly, Molly and Isolde outdid themselves.”
Theron: “Best party they’ve ever thrown.”
They clinked their glasses together, blissfully unaware that Avery’s next “vision” was about to throw the entire hall into delightful chaos.
Avery had barely stepped back into the room when the cards in her hand fluttered. Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.
She gasped — loud, sharp, dramatic.
The entire hall froze.
Avery (voice ringing out):
“BETRAYERS! You have nowhere to run!”
Half the room screamed.
The other half dropped their drinks.
Elena nearly fainted from excitement.
Avery swayed, her eyes rolling back just enough to be theatrical. She mumbled under her breath, voice low and eerie.
Avery: “The champagne… tainted… not to be trusted…”
Gasps erupted.
Guest #1: “Poisoned champagne?!”
Guest #2: “Who would do such a thing?”
Guest #3: “I KNEW the bartender looked suspicious!”
Sera, the bartender, threw her hands up.
Sera: “I DID NOTHING!”
Riven and Lucien exchanged a look — the kind of look that said we need to handle this before the entire room riots.
Then both of them turned to Kael. Simultaneously. With the exact same expression. Find. The. Poisoned. Champagne.
Kael blinked.
Kael: “Why me?”
Riven raised a brow.
Riven: “Because you’re the only one who can move through this crowd without causing a panic.”
Lucien smirked.
Lucien: “And because you owe me.”
Kael groaned.
Kael: “I hate this game.”
But he slipped away, weaving through the crowd with surprising stealth, scanning trays, bottles, glasses, and guests with the intensity of a man who absolutely did not want to be blamed for a second murder.
With Kael dispatched, Riven turned back to the nearest cluster of suspects — Auron, Elena, Marielle, and a very shaken Sera. Lucien stood beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Riven: “Let’s talk about motives.”
Elena: “Oh, I have so many theories.”
Marielle: “I have none, but I’m ready to be dramatic.”
Auron: “I’m grieving.”
Sera: “I DID NOTHING!”
Lucien leaned toward Riven, voice low, “This is spiraling.”
Riven: “Welcome to my life.”
Kael crouched behind a champagne tower, muttering to himself.
Kael: “Find the poisoned champagne, they said. Easy, they said. How am I supposed to know which one is poisoned? Do poisoned bubbles look different? Do they glow? Do they—”
He froze.
A single glass sat slightly apart from the others.
Not touched.