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I didn’t need to step outside to notice the chill. It was visible in the soft golden light, the gentle drift of the fog, the orange leaves scuttling over Feverpoint’s wide, cobblestone pathways. Somehow, the late summer breeze that had carried me to this place had shifted into something cooler, and I’d come to rely on the Freaks’ warmth.

“Eat up,” Nash murmured, pressing a bowl of stew into my hands. “There’s more if you want it.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, turning from the living room window.

Unlike the desolate pathway outside, the loft was cozy and inviting. As feral as they might be, the Freaks weren’t without their creature comforts.

The bright, woody smell of amber and saffron drifted through the room like a warm embrace. A smattering of candles flickered from the mantle and the corners of the room, giving everything a gentle glow. Soft, fuzzy blankets were draped over the chaise and the chair, ready for use. Blade already had one wrapped around her shoulders as she sat in front of the fireplace.

As if her blood doesn’t run hot enough already.

As I raised a bite of perfectly braised beef and potatoes to my lips, I couldn’t help but smile. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been caught dead back in this place. But no matter what I did, it seemed like fate kept me on a collision course with the Freaks.

So much for their stupid fucking prophecy.

“What’s so funny?” Nash raised a brow, finally settling in on the couch with a bowl of her own.

“Nothing,” I murmured, though the smirk on my face only grew, drawing Blade’s attention too.

“Keep cheesing like that, and I’m going to start to think you’ve really lost it, Trinket.”

“Maybe I have,” I shrugged. “I just think it’s ironic.”

“What?” The confused glance they exchanged forced a giggle up from my chest.

“Well, you spent all this time buying into some prophecy about how I’m some horrible monster who needs to be vanquished. But the second I leave, you’re begging me to come back. And now here I am, sitting in your living room, wearing the clothes you bought me and eating the stew you cooked me. It’s just funny.”

Blade frowned, taking a bite of her stew. “I never believed in that shit.”

“No?” I raised a brow. “You believed in it enough to let Cyrus try to kill me.”

“She was never going to kill you,” Nash cut in, her voice firm. “And the cards never said you were a monster. They predicted some sort of… revenge — maybe.”

“Maybe?” I challenged.

She sighed. “The cards all have a lot of different meanings. There’s a lot of room for interpretation. It wouldn’t be outlandish to think a bunch of kids misunderstood the reading, or took something too far.”

Normally, I might have dropped it there. But I wasn’t satisfied. Between the three of us, we all knew that the Freaks had fucked up. And now, I had more leeway than ever to call the bullshit out.

“I want a do-over.” I set my bowl down on the window ledge.

“What?” Blade cocked her head.

“You owe me another reading. Since our last one got interrupted by the sulker-in-chief.”

I expected some level of pushback, but after a brief inhale, Nash patted the cushion beside her and reached for the cards.

Shocked and giddy that my demand had worked, I leapt up from the window sill, plodding down on the couch next to Nash. Blade came over too, keeping an expert grip on her bowl and blanket as she scooted to sit at my feet.

Nash’s fingers were skillful as they pulled the cards from the deck and began to shuffle. The tendons shifted as she bridged the cards between long, strong fingers. My eyes followed the dark ink of her tattoo over muscle and vein, drifting up the strong line of her forearm.

Just before she gathered the cards and lifted the deck for me to split, the front door opened. A dark shadow occupied the doorway before quickly filling the room with tension.

Cyrus.

I bit my lip, waiting for her to make some snarky remark, to snatch the deck up from Nash’s hands and tell us all off for playing with her sacred little cards.

But instead, Cyrus took a deep breath and strode across the room, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. All eyes stayed on her for a long moment before she nodded to the cards in Nash’s hands. “Go on. Tell us what you see.”