Chapter Fifty-Eight
While Kael swayed Avery in that slow, mock dance-hug, murmuring reassurances into her hair, Lucien and Riven’s voices were low and clipped as they coordinated with Auron, the Council, and Dean Errol. The air in the suite was taut with strategy and quiet worry.
Molly, however, had seen this before — the way tension could coil too tight if you didn’t break it. She’d been there the first day Avery arrived at the school, wide-eyed and overwhelmed, and she knew exactly what her friend needed now.
Without a word, she slipped into the walk-in closet and started pulling out the softest, most lived-in clothes they owned — Avery’s favorite “lay around the apartment” jammies, the ones that felt like a hug. She stacked them on her arm, then grabbed the boys’ comfiest sweats and tees too.
Next, she picked up the phone and ordered every comfort food on the menu: cheesy garlic bread, loaded fries, fried dumplings, chocolate cake, milkshakes, and enough pizza to feed a small army. While she waited for the order, she crouched by the entertainment console and powered up the video game system, slotting in Avery’s favorite — the one she always claimed she could beat them all at.
By the time the doorbell rang, Molly had transformed the suite’s living area into a cozy den: blankets draped over the couch, pillows piled high, the TV glowing with the Mario Kart start screen.
She stepped out of the bedroom with the stack of jammies in her arms, her expression a mix of mischief and command. She tossed a pointed look at the boys — the kind that said you’re changing too — before turning her smile on Avery.
“I plugged your favorite game in,” she announced, her voice warm and bright. “And the food’s at the door. Get changed, and we’ll take the boys down in Mario Kart.”
Avery blinked, the heaviness in her chest easing just a little. “You did all this?”
Molly grinned. “Of course. You think I’m letting you spend our last night here stressed out? Not a chance.”
Kael chuckled, already reaching for his sweats. “You’re going down, Mol.”
Lucien arched a brow. “Bold words for someone who’s never beaten me.”
Riven smirked. “I’ll just enjoy watching you all fight for second place.”
Avery laughed — a real laugh, the kind that loosened the last of the tension in her shoulders. “Oh, you’re all going down.”
Minutes later, they were sprawled across the couch in mismatched pajamas, plates of food balanced on their knees, controllers in hand. The scent of melted cheese and warm bread filled the air, mixing with the sound of laughter and mock outrage as the first race began.
For a little while, there were no threats, no plans, no shadows waiting beyond the resort. Just five people, a pile of comfort food, and the joy of being together.
And Avery thought, This is what Molly was protecting — not just me, but us.
The living room was a glorious mess.
Blankets draped over the couch like a fort half-built, pillows scattered from earlier wrestling over the “best seat,” and the coffee table buried under plates of half-eaten comfort food. The air smelled of melted cheese, chocolate, and the faint ozone tang of magic from the portal plans still humming in the background.
Avery sat cross-legged on the couch, controller in hand, eyes narrowed at the screen. “If anyone so much as thinks about hitting me with a red shell, I will—”
“—do absolutely nothing because you’ll be in last place,” Riven cut in, smirking.
She gasped. “Oh, it’s on.”
The first few races were chaos. Kael whooped every time he pulled off a perfect drift, Lucien played with surgical precision, and Riven… well, Riven played like he fought — aggressive, unapologetic, and occasionally sending someone flying off the track just for the satisfaction of it.
Molly, on the other hand, was quiet. Focused. Which should have been a warning.
Between races, they stuffed themselves with fries and garlic bread, trading insults and laughing so hard Avery’s cheeks hurt. The tension from earlier — the note, the calls, the plans — had melted into the background, replaced by the simple joy of being here, together, in this ridiculous, perfect moment.
By the fifth race, Avery’s eyelids were getting heavy. She tried to hide it, but Riven noticed. He always noticed.
“You’re slowing down,” he murmured, leaning close.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, though her controller had dipped slightly in her hands.
He chuckled, low and warm. “Come here.”
Before she could protest, he plucked the controller from her fingers, set it aside, and tugged her gently toward him. She went without resistance, curling against his side. He shifted, pulling her fully onto his chest, one arm wrapped securely around her, the other hand idly tracing patterns along her back.
Her last conscious thought was how steady his heartbeat felt beneath her ear.
On the screen, the final race of the night began — Molly, Kael, and Lucien locked in a battle for bragging rights. Kael was in the lead until Lucien slipped past him on the second lap, his expression smug. Molly stayed quiet, biding her time.
Then, on the final stretch, she struck — a perfectly timed blue shell that sent both men spinning just before the finish line. She zipped past them, crossing first with a triumphant laugh.
The room went silent for a beat.
Then Molly grinned, eyes sparkling. “And that, gentlemen, is how it’s done.”
Kael groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
Lucien shook his head, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Molly just leaned back, basking in her victory.
Riven glanced down at Avery, fast asleep against him, her hair spilling over his chest. He smiled — soft, private — and tightened his hold just a little.
The others kept playing, kept laughing, but for Riven, the night had already ended perfectly.