“Vivi?” The shadow stood and stepped into the wan light of the clearing.
“Oh, Mason,” Vivi said with relief while her heart continued beating quickly for a different reason. His hair was tousled and his bow tie hung undone around his neck. He smelled faintly of smoke. A tumbler was in his hand, nothing left in it but melting ice.
“What are you doing out here all alone?” he said. It was a question that would’ve mortified Old Vivi, an acknowledgment of her awkwardness or friendlessness, but it didn’t bother New Vivi at all. She’d become the type of girl who could sit alone on a bench by the forest and look thoughtful and mysterious instead of lonely.
“Just taking a breather. What about you?” Somewhere nearby, an owl hooted. There was a soft rustle of an animal moving in the underbrush; the sounds of the party were a low murmur in the distance. “Where’s Scarlett?”
Mason gave her a pained smile. “We just broke up.”
“What? Like, tonight?” Mason nodded. “Shit. I mean, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He gestured to the spot on the bench next to Vivi. “May I?” When Vivi nodded, Mason sat down heavily beside her, the heavy fabric of his tux pants brushing against her leg. Vivi shivered despite the warm night air. “I love Scarlett and I’ll always care about her, but to be honest, we weren’t meant to be together.”
“From the outside, you looked like the perfect couple,” Vivi said. Of course, she of all people should know that things weren’t always as they seemed.
“I used to think that too,” he said, shifting to look at Vivi. The moonlight illuminated half his face, casting his cheekbones in high relief. “But things just . . . changed for me this year.”
Vivi took a sharp, shallow breath as she met his gaze. His hazel eyes shone in the moonlight as they searched hers. The air between them felt charged, and for one fleeting, desperate moment she wanted to ask if the breakup had had something to do with her. But she knew that was silly. She and Mason had barely even talked. Whatever connection she felt with him was just on her side. A crush, that was it.
As if eager to change the subject, Mason smiled and said, “So I hear you’re a Kappa now.”
“The rumors are true,” she said, trying to keep her tone playful and light despite her racing heart. It was beating so loudly, she was almost tempted to cast a silencing spell lest Mason realize what his presence was doing to her.
He shifted again, his knee grazing hers. She’d never been this close to him before, so close that she could reach out to touch him if she dared.
“That’s a shame,” he said.
“Why?”
Mason turned to her with a wistful smile. “Because that means I can’t offer to be your waffle-making tutor. It’s purely altruistic, of course, but I don’t think the . . . optics would be great.”
Vivi froze on the bench as the meaning of his words filtered through her defenses. Oh my God . . . he does like me. She wanted to stand up and squeal, spin in a circle, text Ariana. Anything to release the fizzy joy bubbling up in her stomach. Or go full New Vivi and lean in for a kiss. For the first time in her entire life, a boy she had a crush on liked her back. Yet—the realization sank through her, heavy and sobering—there was nothing she could do about it.
Things had changed for her this year too. Magic had blown her entire life open. It gave her the power to alter her appearance, to reroute wind, to summon the most ancient and mysterious forces on earth. It had the power to welcome her, an only child, into a family of amazing women. But it couldn’t change the fact that Mason was the ex of one of her new sisters.
Mason was right. Vivi was a Kappa now. And if she had to choose, the answer was clear . . . “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Mason leaned back against the bench and sighed heavily before turning to her with a sad smile. “The Kappa bond is pretty strong, huh.”
“It is . . . and I’m really lucky to be a part of it.”
Mason nodded, then fell silent. “Take care of her for me, will you?” he said finally.
“I will.” Vivi took a deep breath and forced herself to stand up. “Bye, Mason,” she said, and turned back toward the party, wishing she knew a spell to heal an aching heart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Scarlett
“Not again,” Scarlett whispered. She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself as she shivered in her thin nightgown. She was in the second-floor hallway of Kappa House. All the doors to her sisters’ rooms were closed. But she could hear the rumble of thunder and see the storm booming outside the window at the end of the hall.
The sconces on the walls flickered. She heard laughter, deep and throaty, behind her. But when she whipped around, there was no one else there.
The pictures, she realized. The photographs on the walls were all laughing at her. Row upon row of portraits, Raven sisters of old, pointing their fingers at Scarlett and cackling with glee. Even though she was horrified, her eyes went to the faces she knew best to see if they were laughing too. Her mother. Her sister. Dahlia. Mei. Gwen. And, finally, Harper.
She staggered on her feet. Started to run. The laughter got louder. Harsher.
She reached the end of the hallway and crashed into solid wood. No door. It was a dead end. She spun around, then froze in terror. There was someone else in the house. Someone coming toward her. Dressed in a cloak—a long flowing garment with shredded sleeves, one hand extended toward her, fingernails like bloody claws. She had long dark hair, glowing eyes. Beneath her hood, a red, red mouth filled with teeth opened wide. Harper. Always Harper.
Scarlett startled awake to the sound of her own gasp. Just a nightmare. Just another nightmare. She gripped her sheets, bathed in sweat, even though for once, the temperature had finally dipped below seventy for the night. Outside, lightning crashed and storm clouds gathered. Her heart continued to slam against her rib cage, an incessant beat, refusing to let her go back to sleep. She wondered if the storm was her doing or if it was just the perfect backdrop for a shitty night.
She reached with trembling hands for the water she always kept on her bedside table, but the nightstand was empty. Belatedly, she remembered why. It came in flashes: The cab ride alone after Homecoming. Stumbling into the empty house. Sobbing her eyes out in the bathroom, then finally collapsing face-first onto her bed, not even bothering to clean off her makeup.
She probably looked like a nightmare now. Judging by the black streaks on her pillow, she figured her mascara was in runnels.
She levered herself out of bed, shivering in the cool evening air. In the bathroom, she ignored the mirror and splashed water on her face. She scrubbed until her skin stung, then buried her head in a towel. When she finally peeked at her reflection, her eyes were puffy and swollen, red veins creeping across the whites.
Another crash of thunder outside. Louder. The storm was getting closer.
She went back into the bedroom, checked her phone. It was just past three in the morning. With a groan, she collapsed back onto her bed, one arm across her forehead.
Didn’t matter. Sleep wasn’t going to happen, not for the rest of the night. Her fingers itched to check more on her phone. Recent messages. Social media. Maybe Mason had texted. Or called. Or posted something.