FUCKFUCKFUCK.
I keep trying to tell myself that I'm not jealous. But that quickly morphs to lawyer-level half-truths about how I’m “not jealous, just upset because he blew me off”.
Yep, that’s bullshit.
I’m jealous.
I’m hurt.
It’s pure anarchy at this party. I mean there’s a legitfight clubin the corner of the big open-air space with a bonfire roaring in the middle of it. Bewilderingly, Ari seems fascinated by it, and I swear I saw her cheering or at least pumping her fist in the air when Adrik Volkov was beating the shit out of some poor guy from Para Bellum that I don’t know.
A couple of members of The Reckless drive motorcycles, and a few of those are revving around just outside the ruins of the old fort, adding even more noisy chaos to the thudding rock music.
Given what happened at the club's last party a week ago, it’s insane that this thing is happening tonight. Even more insane that anyone is here, us included.
I glance around, trying to keep track of where my friends are.
Arianna is still staring in almost eager awe at the fights, which is…weird, but whatever. Lucia is having a grand old time with her new buddies Aaron and Chris, who seem to be a magnet fortattooed alt-girls. They’re currently introducing Lucia to Luna Komarova, a Bratva princess who iscoveredin tattoos. The two girls seem to be hitting it off.
I don't see Galina, but I’m not that worried because she can usually handle herself. Plus her brother Zane is here somewhere, and I assume he’s watching out for her, too.
Finally, I spot Wren.
Shit.
She’s over by the makeshift bar, sitting on a stool with her head half-propped up on one hand while Kirill talks to her.
That doesn’t sit well with me.
Kirill’s been extra weird tonight. Okay, he’s always weird, and I don’t know him that well at all. But he was oddly insistent earlier that I sit on his lap for a picture. Like, aggressively so. Then he wanted me to kiss him.
No thanks.
I mean, the man is tall, built, gorgeous, and looks like pure sin. But still,hardno, even if Achillesisoff fucking around with some blonde high school chick.
Apparently, I have a type, and it’s “golden on the outside, inky black on the inside.” And Kirill…isn’t that.
He’s pure venom, through and through.
So I’m not big on him over there, shirtless and schmoozing with a clearly drunk Wren.
He grins when I walk over to insert myself between the two of them.
“Just the girl I was looking for,” he grins, a dark glint in his eyes.
I smile coldly at him. “Exactly how many girls have you said that to tonight?”
“Several,” he says without hesitation.
At least the guy’s honest, I guess?
“And a couple of guys, too…” He frowns and cranes his neck around me to look at Wren again. “Which is why I was asking your friend here about Galina’sdelicious-looking brother.”
“Straaaight,” Wren slurs. “Zane isstraightas a stick.”
Fuck.
I turn to really look at her. Wren ismuchdrunker than I originally thought. She smiles through me, her eyes unfocused.