Moonveil Academy

Parties were supposed to be fun, not a battle field.

"Maeve Sinclair," Freya said with a dramatic sigh, hands on her hips as she stood in front of my open closet. "Forgive me, but your options are… tragic." It was almost time for the party, and she was helping me choose options.

I rolled my eyes from where I was sitting cross-legged on my bed. "Thanks for the pep talk, stylist."

"I'm serious!" she huffed, shoving aside a faded denim jacket. "You can't show up to the first-year party dressed like you're heading to the library. Do you want to give the Silver Circle more ammunition? They would most likely be there."

"I don't really care what they think," I responded, folding my arms and frowning.

Freya shot me a knowing look. "You say that now. But trust me, parties here are like… unofficial runways. The more you look like you belong, the less likely they are to eat you alive."

I snorted. "Eat me alive? Is this a school or the Hunger Games?"

"Love, it's both," she said sweetly, turning back to my clothes. After a moment, she pulled out a black fitted crop top I had forgotten I packed. "Ooh, this. With the ripped skinny jeans. And—" she dug through my suitcase, "these boots."

I blinked. "When did I buy boots that nice?"

"Probably during a moment of brilliance," Freya said, tossing them at me. "Put them on, fashionista. I knew you were hiding something in that tragic suitcase."

I laughed as I pulled the clothes on, and when I was done, even I had to admit I didn't look half bad. The black top hugged my figure just right, the jeans looked cool, and the boots gave me a little extra height.

Freya whistled low when I stepped out of the bathroom. "Okay. Wow. Who are you and what have you done with Maeve 'Plain T-shirt' Sinclair?"

"Shut up," I said, heat creeping into my cheeks. "You look amazing, too."

She did. Freya had chosen a shimmering bronze tank tucked into high-waisted shorts and paired it with sneakers that looked way too clean to have ever touched real dirt. Her red hair was curled in soft waves, and her lip gloss caught the light.

Before we left, she dragged me to the tiny desk mirror and insisted on "just a touch" of makeup. A bit of mascara, a swipe of peach blush on my cheeks, and a faint shimmer of gloss on my lips.

"See?" she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Just enough to say, I woke up like this, but in a cool, effortless way."

I'd laughed, but I had to admit… she wasn't wrong.

"Ready to make them all jealous?" she said with a grin, looping her arm through mine.

"I was born ready."

~

The field was already buzzing when we arrived.

A bonfire roared in the center, crackling and sending sparks into the night sky. String lights were strung between poles, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. Music thumped from a speaker set up on a nearby table, and the smell of grilled food and something sweet, marshmallows maybe, hung in the air.

Students milled about in clusters, some laughing, some already dancing. A group of guys were tossing a football on one side of the field, while a couple sat in the grass, wrapped up in what looked like a very intense make-out session.

"Wow," I said softly, taking it all in.

"Yeah," Freya said with a grin. "Moonveil parties are… intense. And before you ask, no, this isn't just first years. Half the third and fourth years use this as an excuse to crash and act superior."

"Of course they do," I said dryly.

Freya giggled and handed me a paper cup of something fizzy and suspiciously sweet.

"Drink. Relax. I won't let anyone bite you."

I sipped the drink and made a face. "What is this?"

"Something Kai probably mixed. He's around here somewhere," she said, scanning the crowd.

We wandered toward the bonfire, greeting a few students from our classes. Some girls in designer tops glanced at me with raised eyebrows, and I felt that same prickling awareness, like I was under a microscope.

"Do I have something on my face?" I whispered to Freya.

"Maeve Sinclair, you look just fine." She smiled, looping her arm tighter through mine. "You look amazing. That's why they're staring."

I smiled faintly, but before I could reply, a sudden hush fell over the crowd.

The music cut out, the chatter faltered.

Freya's grip on my arm tightened. "Damn it," she muttered, her tone laced with annoyance. "Of course they're here."

I didn't need to ask who they were.

Three figures walked toward the bonfire like they owned the ground beneath their feet.

Lucian's white hair gleamed under the lights, violet eyes as cold and cutting as ever. Elias was all dark hair and sharp edges, scanning the crowd like he was bored with the very sight of us. Rowan trailed slightly behind them, his hands shoved in his pockets and that arrogant half-smirk on his lips.

My jaw clenched. Fantastic. Just what this night needed, the royal pains of Moonveil.

Every step they took sucked the air out of the party. Even the fire crackled softer, like it didn't dare outshine them.

The crowd around us seemed to hold a strange energy, half fear, half awe.

People shifted, whispering, stealing glances at the heirs. It was Elias who broke the tension first, his deep voice cutting like a whip through the quiet.

"Why the hell are you all staring?" he barked, his tone casual but laced with authority. "This is a party, isn't it? Keep drinking."

Laughter rippled nervously around the bonfire, but I couldn't move.

Not when Lucian's violet eyes were still on me, pinning me like I'd just stumbled into the crosshairs of something dangerous.

And then he moved.

Not toward the drinks. Not toward the crowd.

Toward me.