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“Ezra... You know why I take it. It’s better this way.”

“I know. I just… I just miss the old Lara, the party and fun Lara.”

“Sometimes I miss her too.” I say it more to myself than to him.

Then the room shifts. A group moves through the crowd, people stepping back instinctively. Wolves. They always look so fucking scary when they arrive in groups. Show-offs. You can feel vampires getting annoyed, their fangs starting to show. All the girls look over, their gazes dirty with desire.

Piro walks in first in an elegant black shirt, with two girls tucked under his arms. He waves at the manager and, within seconds, staff lead his group to the most expensive VIP table beside the DJ. The table costs ten grand. A waste of money if you ask me, but when someone has more money than sense, it doesn’t make a difference.

And then, last through the door, flanked by two bodyguards, he walks in.

Black long-sleeve shirt. Dark hair. Murder in his eyes.

Antonero Caruso.

Now that Meg told me, I see Vito in him. The same controlled brutality. The same old violence dressed in expensive black. I don’t know how I missed it before. People around us start whispering, and I guess the news has already spread. Vito’s firstborn is back. Wonderful. Exactly what Midnight City needs. Another violent man with a family name and a god complex.

I look away before he can catch me staring. Slowly, the club goes back to pretending everything is normal. The girls drag us onto the dance floor, but I never feel fully comfortable there. I dance for a little while and return to our table. Nero’s eyes tracking me from across the room make me want to hide more.

The party keeps moving, but then another disturbance breaks out near the entrance. A group of men in hoodies push through the crowd, heading straight toward the Caruso table. More wolves? Oh, this is gonna be fun.

Interracial wars are mostly a problem for the city. But fights between members of the same species are just pure entertainment.

The group reaches the VIP platform, and the whole room adjusts around them. Piro stands and starts arguing with the man in front, clearly the leader. Nero doesn’t even get up at first. He just sits there with one arm along the back of the couch, watching. The pack leader gestures toward him with one sharp finger.

Mistake.

People start moving back. The music keeps playing on autopilot, but the DJ ducks lower behind the booth, which is probably the smartest thing he’s done all night. When wolves fight, nobody wants to stand between them. Even the vampires watch with interest now, smug and hungry for someone else’s blood.

Nero rises slowly and steps down from the VIP platform. Let’s see what the wolf prince has in him.

The wolf in the front shouts something I can’t hear over the music. Too many emotions. Nero says nothing, he just stands there calmly. The wolf reaches behind his back and pulls a gun.

A gun in a wolf fight. Pussy move.

He points it at Nero’s chest. Nero doesn’t move, just stands there and looks at the man. The guy’s nerve breaks. His hand shakes. He fires.

What. The. Fuck.

For a second, everything stops. Nero looks down at his own chest. Then he grabs the group leader by the back of the neck, twists him to face the room like a warning and lets his fangs drop. The guy tries to move but the iron hold prevents him. Nero bites into the man’s throat and rips out a chunk of flesh. Red sprays across the floor, Nero spits meat and blood onto the ground, then drops the wolf body like trash. He signals to his guards, and they drag the body away while he looks across the room, daring anyone to speak.

Nobody does.

The other wolves lower their heads and disappear into the crowd. The vampires whisper among themselves, suddenly much less amused. I guess now we know who runs the young wolves. That was a show of strength. A stupid one. He took a silver bullet for no reason. He could’ve disarmed the guy before the gun ever came out.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

The gunshot keeps echoing in my head. I hate it, too many nightmares, too many deaths from a bullet to the head. My skull feels ready to split open. Ezra watches me from the other side of the booth, his expression full of concern. I give him a small nod toward the bathroom, and he nods back like he understands.

I leave before anyone can see my hands shaking and walk to the bathroom stall. My fingers tremble so badly I almost spill the stardust. Halfway through snorting the line, I already know it is too much. By the time I finish, the room tilts. The dread disappears into an unnatural silence. The only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat. I feel like a ghost myself. Stripped of every feeling, every emotion. Just a shell of a human, with an empty stare and no memories. I keep telling myself it’s better this way.

Once the dizziness passes, I sit there for another moment just to collect my thoughts. A short text goes to Max, asking him when he’ll get here. I pull myself together and walk back down the narrow hall to the dance floor.

Nero stands in my way.

“There you are,” he says. “You think I forgot about you?”

He has no shirt on. He must have just cleaned himself. The bullet entry is already closing over. How fucking quickly he heals. I try not to stare at it, but then I notice the tattoos.