Page 60 of The Daughters of Nyx

I stared in horror at the date and the bats I’d added to the box as a reminder.

Halloween.

Holy shit. Had I really breezed through the last two weeks without noticing how close it was? My birthday felt like a lifetime ago, the psychic a distant memory. We were at the end of October, I had two days until I was supposed to present a new excuse for why I didn’t have a boyfriend to my mother, and the four supes across the hall were currently

more important, apparently, than one of the greatest holidays there was.

I smacked my hand to my forehead and groaned. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

Thea patted my shoulder sympathetically. “It’s not your fault you’ve been…busy.”

Halloween was anusthing. Since before moving to Forthampton, we’d done Halloween together. Whether that meant handing out candy to kids, or attending spooky parties, or visiting the pier for their horror lane. Usually, we spent all of October decorating and planning our costumes—matching, because we were cheesy like that—but this year…

I glared at our underwhelmingly decorated apartment. We’d started the decorating during the first week of the month. My birthday had happened and we’d fallen into routine at work. Then shit happened with the supes.

“What are we going to do?” I moaned. “I’m not breaking tradition. But it’s too late to go down and get candy. And we probably missed the deadline for horror lane.”

Thea frowned, tapping her chin. “Jase mentioned a party, but I said we couldn’t go because of…stuff.”

Stuff. The supes. Hellhounds. People wanting me dead because I’m apparently meant to be Queen.

Fuck that.

“Text Jase for any info he has. We are doingsomething.” We had a small hall closet where we stored, mostly, decorations. But we had old costumes in a box, and thankfully, they should still be in good condition.

“What about the hard asses across the hall?” Thea asked, but she didn’t seem all that concerned. Instead, excitement ignited in her eyes.

I spared her a look over my shoulder and grimaced. “Ask for forgiveness?”

We spent two hours rifling through our old costumes before consulting the internet for suggestions. As we did, Rowan started his shift, seemingly more interested in his cell than with the mess covering the apartment.

After the first fifteen minutes of not being questioned, I wondered if he even cared. It took another ten for me to finally get frustrated enough to look over at him.

“What would you guys say to Thea and I being social twenty-two-year olds and going to a Halloween party tonight?” I asked, cocking my head when he finally looked over at us.

His brows furrowed, and damn me, if the confusion that sparked on his face wasn’t cute. “Halloween?”

Thea gave a horrified gasp and clutched my forearm. “Are you telling me this idiot doesn’t know what Halloween is?”

I turned from him to look at my friend. “I really hope not.”

“I know what Halloween is,” he snapped, finally putting his phone down. “Andyes, Maeve would definitely mind. It would be an unnecessary risk.”

“But it’s one night. One night where we’ll be in costume, with people we kind of know, having fun.”

Rowan’s hazel eyes narrowed. “One night that might, oh, I don’t know, get you hurt. Attacked by hellhounds. Whisked away by whoever wants you dead. Or, you know, you might just end up dead?”

“You do realise Thea and I are masters of sneaking out, so regardless of whether you agree or not, we’ll probably still go,” I pointed out. “I don’t want to be that dumb girl in a horror movie. And I don’t want to go against Maeve’s orders. But only being in the apartment or going to work is starting to make us go crazy. A single night won’t destroy me, will it?”

His jaw clenched as he regarded me carefully. Other than the night of the hellhound attack, this was probably the most serious I’d seen him. There was little amusement in his eyes, making him look like a different person entirely.

“Please,” I whispered. My heart thumped wildly in my chest as his eyes softened.

“Let’s talk to Maeve, see what she has to say,” he finally replied after another beat of silence. “I can’t promise you anything.”

Even if he couldn’t, it still meant a lot that he was willing to hear us out. Silently, I climbed to my feet and strode over to where he was sitting; before I could think better—or throw away any confidence I’d accumulated in the last few hours—I threw my arms around his shoulders. Rowan stiffened, the hard planes of his body going rigid beneath my touch. The warmth that bloomed whenever we touched spread between our bodies as he finally accepted my embrace.

Rowan held me for a moment, his scent—sandalwood and spice—wrapping around me. “I’m sorry you’re feeling trapped,” he murmured, pulling away. “We just want to keep you safe.”

---