Page 54 of Protect Thy Enemy

Arden

Knuckles rap against the door, quick and unrelenting, breaking through the quiet that’s settled around me.

I roll onto my side, letting out a heavy sigh. Whatever Luna wants, I’m not in the mood to entertain it. The past few days have pressed me into this bed and personally tucked me in. And I don’t see the point in fighting it.

“Arden!” Her loud voice laced with determination. “If you don’t open this door, I swear I’ll—”

I groan, dragging a pillow over my head. “Go away, Luna.”

Another knock, harder this time. “I swear, if you don’t open this door in ten seconds, I’m coming in!”

Though her threat is empty, her persistence is real. I sit up, rubbing the back of my neck, debating whether to let her win or make her work for it.

“What do you want?” I finally call louder, my voice hoarse from disuse.

“To save you from yourself,” she replies, voice cheerfully resolute. “Now, open up!”

With a dramatic sigh, I throw off the blankets and shuffle to the door. When I pull it open, she’s leaning against the frame, arms crossed. Her hair is up in a messy bun, but her makeup is flawless, and she’s dressed in a crop leather top and leather pants that screams sexy vixen.

“You look…” she says, her gaze sweeping over me. “Like a hermit who’s forgotten how to human.”

“Charming,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my wash-n-go curls. “What do you want?”

She steps past me into the room, her energy filling the space in a way only Luna can. “We’re going out.”

I blink, still groggy. “Why?”

“Because you need it,” she says, rifling through my closet without waiting for permission. “And because I need it.”

Her voice dips slightly on the last part, and I catch the faintest crack in her usual bravado.

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “Is this about Tavia?”

I could’ve sworn I heard the two whisper-yelling last night. I’m sure it was to make sure they didn’t wake me, but unfortunately for them, I couldn’t fall asleep. Yelling or not.

She freezes for half a second before continuing her search, pulling out a little black dress and tossing it onto the bed. “Nope. This is about you and your need to stop wallowing.”

“Luna—”

She cuts me off with a sharp look, her smile brittle around the edges. “We got into it again, okay? Big surprise. You know how she is.” Her laugh is bitter. “And I don’t want to talk aboutit. I want to drink, dance, and pretend everything’s fine. So get dressed.Please.”

Her words hang in the air, and I know she won’t elaborate. Luna and I are alike in that way. We don’t tend to talk about our feelings until we’re ready, and this is her way of coping. Mine is throwing myself into work.

This is not an option for me because work is one of my biggest issues, along with Gran and tracking down whoever this Leo person is. Which I still haven’t told Luna about.

Maybe because I’m a coward, or perhaps because I’m scared I’m wrong. I may be reading too much into this, but I haven’t had much luck finding anything. But it doesn’t even really matter. I don’t even know his last name.

I sigh, relenting. “Fine. But drinks are on you.”

She smirks, her usual spark returning. “Honey, in that dress? The drinks will be on everyone but us.”

Standing in front of the mirror, I adjust the dress straps, trying to summon some semblance of excitement. The fabric hugs every curve, the heels add just enough height, and my sleek, straightened hair falls down my back. I look like I belong on the cover of a magazine.

But on the inside? I feel like an impostor.

The tension of the past few days clings to me, no matter how much mascara or red lipstick I layer on. The almost kiss with Grant replays in my head at the worst times, pulling me into a spiral I can’t seem to escape.

What bothers me most isn’t the moment itself. It’s the way I felt afterward—like I wanted more.

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