Chapter 18: ZEPHYRA NOCTARYN’S POV

I should have walked away and never looked back.

That was what pride demanded. That was what my wounded heart screamed at me as I stood under the cold moonlight outside the banquet hall, staring at the fountain while Kaelric’s words echoed in my head like a curse.

It’s just a game.

I kept my face calm because I refused to break in front of him. I refused to let Kaelric Viremont see that for one weak, humiliating second, I had almost believed the way he touched me meant something real. That the heat in his eyes meant something more than strategy. That the way he pulled me close wasn’t just another move in our ridiculous war against our parents, against Thorne, against everyone who had ever laughed at me.

But I had been stupid.

Stupid enough to want him.

Stupid enough to ache when he pulled away.

I finally turned and faced him, my chin lifted high even though my chest still felt raw. He looked just as shaken as I felt, which only made me angrier. He stood there with his tie loosened and his hands flexing at his sides like he wanted to reach for me again, like he was fighting himself. I hated that he could look like that after hurting me. I hated that some reckless part of me still wanted him to cross the distance between us and finish what he started.

Instead, I gave him the coldest smile I could manage.

“You don’t have to worry,” I said softly, making my voice light, almost bored. “I know how to play my role.”

His jaw tightened. “Zephyra.”

“No, really.” I stepped back, widening the space between us before he could touch me again. “You made it clear. I appreciate the reminder.”

The hurt flashed across his face so quickly most people would have missed it. I didn’t. And for one ugly second, that gave me satisfaction.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Pretend you’re fine when you’re not.”

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That’s rich coming from you.”

His eyes darkened, and the tension between us sharpened so fast it felt like a blade being drawn. For one dangerous moment, I thought he might grab me again. Thought he might finally stop pretending. But then the music from inside swelled louder as the terrace doors opened in the distance, and the moment shattered.

“Go back inside, Kaelric,” I said, my voice suddenly tired. “Before someone sees us and thinks we’re actually in love.”

That one landed.

I saw it in the way his expression hardened, in the way he stepped back like I had slapped him.

Without another word, I turned and walked toward the side entrance of the garden instead of the ballroom, my heels biting into the stone path as fast as dignity would allow. I did not look back. I refused to. If I looked back, I might stop. If I stopped, I might cry. And I would rather die than let tonight end with Kaelric seeing my tears.

By the time I reached the corridor leading to the guest restrooms, my chest was so tight I could barely breathe. I slipped inside the empty powder room and locked the door behind me, gripping the marble sink with both hands. My reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger. My cheeks were flushed. My eyes were too bright. My lips still tingled with a kiss that had never happened.

I hated him.

That was the lie I repeated to myself.

I hated him for touching me like I mattered.

I hated him for making me feel wanted.

I hated him for stopping.

A soft knock came at the door a few minutes later, and I froze.

“Zephyra?” Elowen’s voice came through gently. “It’s me.”

Relief loosened something in my chest. I opened the door just enough to let her in. The moment she saw my face, her expression sharpened.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

She folded her arms. “That answer has never once been believable.”

I tried to smile, but it came out crooked. “Kaelric and I had a disagreement.”

Elowen stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “That bad?”

I looked away.

That was enough of an answer.

She stepped closer and squeezed my hand. “Then let him suffer for it.”

I let out a weak laugh despite myself. “You always have such healthy advice.”

“I’m serious. Men like him only learn when they panic.”

If only she knew.

I took one last breath, fixed my makeup, and lifted my chin again. “Then let him panic.”

When we returned to the ballroom, I made sure to avoid Kaelric completely. I danced with Elowen’s cousin when he asked. I laughed too brightly at a joke I didn’t hear. I let people admire my dress and compliment my smile. I became a performance all over again, because that was the only armor I had left.

And across the room, Kaelric watched me.

I felt it constantly.

Like heat against my skin.

Like a hand at the small of my back.

Every time I looked up, he was already looking. His expression grew darker each time he saw another boy near me, each time I smiled at someone who wasn’t him, each time I pretended I hadn’t nearly fallen apart in the garden because of him.

Good.

Let him feel it.

Eventually, the banquet began to thin out. Parents started leaving. Cars lined the front drive. Students gathered in little glittering groups for photos and gossip. I was standing near the grand staircase with Elowen when I saw Kaelric heading toward the side hall that led to the family lounges. Alone.

Or so I thought.

A minute later, Lyssandra slipped after him.

My stomach dropped.

Elowen followed my gaze. “Oh no.”

I forced my face blank. “Who cares?”

“You do.”

“I absolutely do not.”

She gave me a look, but before she could say anything, Thorne appeared near the staircase railing, his phone in his hand, a strange smile curving his mouth as he glanced toward the same hallway.

Something about it made my skin crawl.

Meanwhile, down the quieter corridor beyond the ballroom, Kaelric had barely made it to the lounge alcove before Lyssandra caught up to him.

I couldn’t hear them from where I stood, but I could see enough from the open archway.

She touched his arm.

She said something soft, something meant only for him, and her face shifted into practiced sympathy. Comfort. Concern. Whatever had happened between us outside, whatever coldness I had thrown at him inside, Lyssandra was using it. I knew it instantly. She was stepping into the crack between us like she had been waiting for it all night.

Kaelric looked exhausted. Guarded. Angry.

And then Lyssandra moved closer.

She rose onto her toes and kissed him.

For one horrible second, Kaelric didn’t move.

For one horrible, devastating second, it looked like he almost kissed her back.

My whole body went numb.

Even from a distance, I saw the fury on his face. Saw the way he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand like he was disgusted with himself for not reacting faster. Lyssandra stumbled, shock flashing across her features.

But it was already too late.

From the staircase shadow, Thorne lowered his phone slowly, a vicious satisfaction spreading across his face.

My blood turned cold.

By midnight, the first photo hit the school gossip page.

By twelve oh three, the entire campus had seen Kaelric and Lyssandra kissing.