Page 130 of Pack Frenzy
Two girls in cat ears stop mid-conversation.
“Oh my gods, it’s Captain Varyn fromStarlight Renegade! He nailed it!” one squeals, clutching her phone.
Before I can blink, she’s asking for a photo. Then another. Then someone else joins in, shouting something about “the best Varyn cosplay I’ve seen yet.”
Cassian groans. “Here we go.”
Eli gives the faintest of smiles—the polite, camera-ready kind—and stands still while the fans snap pictures. I try to step out of frame, but one of them waves me in.
“Get in, Mermaid Girl! You’re gorgeous!”
My first instinct is to refuse. I’m not the girl people photograph—I’m the one standing off to the side, making sure nothing goes wrong.
But Eli holds out a hand, and there’s something in his expression that makes my chest ache. “Come on. For authenticity,” he teases, then lowers his voice so only I can hear, “and so everyone here knows who you’re with.”
The words settle over me like a blanket I don’t know if I deserve. I take his hand anyway, because refusing feels like I’m rejecting more than just a photo. I’m just not sure what I’m saying yes to.
His fingers brush my waist as he pulls me closer, and I swear my scent stirs immediately with vanilla deepening, citrus brightening until it threads through the air. The flash pops, the crowd cheers, and I can barely hear over my own pulse.
When it’s done, he leans close enough that his breath touches the shell of my ear.
“You realize you just made their feed blow up, right?”
I roll my eyes, trying not to show how hot my face feels. “You’re trending, space-captain.”
He glances down at me with that small, infuriating smile. “If I’m trending, it’s because of the mermaid on my arm.”
Cassian fake-gags. “I’m begging you both to stop flirting in public.”
Rowan chuckles, shaking his head. “Not gonna work, Cass.”
We start moving again, weaving through crowds of people carrying foam swords and neon wigs. Everywhere is a maze of booths and hanging lights. Vendors sell everything from glowing katana replicas to hand-painted pins.
A table of anime plushies catches my eye—rows of wide-eyed creatures smiling like they know something I don’t. There’s a little octopus with a bow tie that hits somewhere soft and stupidbehind my ribs.Not because I need it, but because it’s harmless. Safe. The kind of thing that doesn’t ask for anything back.
Eli notices. “You want one?”
“I want all of them,” I say, and it comes out more honest than I expect. “Sharky’s gotta have more than Churro as a playmate.”
“Pick one.”
I reach for the octopus, then pull my hand back. “I’m good. Don’t want to have to carry all of them right now.”
He studies me for a second, long enough that my stomach does that annoying flip thing, then lets it drop. “Later, then.”
Near the aisle ahead, an older woman is talking frantically to a security volunteer, eyes darting through the crowd. Her hands twist a crumpled bag to her chest.
Rowan notices first. “Something’s wrong.”
We step closer, and the woman’s voice trembles: “My granddaughter—she was right beside me, and now I can’t find her. She’s in a blue dress. Pigtails. Please, she’s only seven?—”
Cassian’s already moving. “We’ll help.”
Rowan nods, calm but firm. “We’ll cover more ground if we split up. Cass, check near the food court. I’ll sweep the vendor floor.” Then he turns to Eli. “Stay with Jess.”
Something warm and uncomfortable twists in my stomach. I should object—tell them I can handle myself, that I don’t need a babysitter. But the truth is, IwantEli to stay. I want his steady presence beside me, the certainty of not being alone. And that wanting feels like weakness.
Eli inclines his head. “Understood.”
