Page 72 of Fanged Temptation

Her lips curled into a secretive grin. “Because I did.”

“You did—because you saw it.” I peered at her. “In one of your visions?”

She bobbed her head lazily, swirling her drink. “I catch glimpses. It doesn’t always come out exactly the way I think… but yes, I saw you rising to the occasion. Finally kicking your fiancé’s undead ass, as it were.”

My nose wrinkled with a rueful grin. “Well, I guess your prescience turned out right that time. But you can’t deny some of your predictions have been kinda off—or downright hilarious. Remember the one where you claimed Dylan was going to stumble into a marriage of convenience with some random guy from Winchester?”

River huffed with a roll of her eyes. “That was aninterpretationerror, not a wrong vision. Visions are tricky, Maxine. They show me whatcouldbe, not always whatwillbe.”

I rested my elbows on the bar. “So that’s the official line? It’s onusto manifest the outcome—to make it happen?”

“Essentially.” Her expression turned thoughtful, a distant look entering her eyes. “I see the paths laid out—the possibilities. But unless people act in certain ways, it remains just that—a possibility.”

I nodded, letting that settle. In an odd sense it made me feel better—knowing our fates weren’t strictly locked down bysomeone else’s vision. “So when you said it was about time I demonstrated my strength… you meant it wasn’t guaranteed, but you saw a future where I did, and you wanted me to push for it?”

River’s grin was strangely proud. “Precisely.”

I snorted softly. “Well, thanks for the cosmic nudge, I guess.”

Before she could answer, her gaze went suddenly unfocused. I recognized the way her eyes glazed over—her body going rigid, stiff as a board. Usually, I’d see this only in fleeting moments, and half the time she’d smirk afterward and spout something cryptic.

This time, though, her face blanched slightly. I frowned, setting my drink down.

“River…?” I waved a hand in front of her. “Don’t tell me you’re messing with me.”

But she blinked, shook her head, and when her eyes snapped back into focus, she looked rattled. Not scared, exactly, but… charged, like she’d just seen something that jolted her.

“River,” I repeated, more firmly. “Are you serious? Was—was that a vision?”

She shuddered, eyes flitting around the room like she was looking for someone. “Maybe.”

“And…?” I prompted, leaning in, half expecting her to spout something ridiculous. But this time, her expression was so intense it made me swallow, tongue clicking in the back of my throat.

For a moment she just stared, like she couldn’t find the words. Then, abruptly, she stood from the stool, nearly upsetting her drink in the process. Her entire posture radiated enthrallment, a sudden rush of adrenaline.

“River!?” I pressed, anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “What did you see?”

But all she said was, “I’ve gotta go.”

My brow furrowed and I tilted my head. “Go where?”

She glanced down at me, a strange spark lighting behind her eyes. “To make it happen.”

“Make what happen?” I asked, utterly baffled. “River—where are you going?”

She was already weaving through the room, not even sparing a glance at Jordan’s raised eyebrows or Hunter’s questioning look. I lifted my hand, about to call after her, but she shot a quick wave behind her back, disappearing out of view.

“What was that about?” Leah was suddenly at my side, jutting her chin to where River had vanished.

“I havenoidea.” I stared through the string of partygoers, trepidation tripling my pulse. “But I think we’re going to find out real soon.”

The party wound down sometime past midnight, the pounding music giving way to the gentle hush of the city’s late hour. My ears still hummed with the echo of bass and raucous laughter as Leah and I stepped out into the cool air. A scattering of guests followed in our wake, but they branched off to catch cabs with happy, murmured farewells.

We headed in the direction of home—our home, just down the road—hand in hand, a faint drizzle misting the street.

I allowed myself a moment of smugness, reflecting on my outfit. The short, sequined dress that glittered under the streetlights—and how I was walking just fine in my heels, thank you very much. Didn’t hurt at all.

Leah, however, was having some trouble with her boots. She claimed they were indestructible, but I’d clocked the frayinglaces and thinning soles ages ago. Pride goeth before the fall… or in this case, a literal break.

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