Dead Wolves Tell No Tails

(ty for reading, you're very appreciated :)) the little star welcomes you with open arms.

i've also never actually watched a movie series that's mentioned here, and so some of it is half-made up on the spot and the other half might be accurate to the original series, let's just go with it :)

(EDITED)(Note to readers: Some chapters ahead may not be in line with the new edits.)

There's a children's riddle called the Key Game that goes: okay, I can play the key game, the key game, the key game. Okay, I can play the key game, can you?

You stand in a circle with one set of keys. One person starts, says, Okay, I can play the key game, can you? Subsequently, they toss it to someone else. Repeat it back wrong, and you can't play.

The objective of the game is pattern recognition, as there's a "key" to playing the game, which is a word said with the sentence I can play the key game. It's more meant for young kids, but people say even adults struggle to understand what the objective of the riddle is. Some never even get it after it ends.

I sat beside my brother, who sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother. My father held the key in his hand, speaking the words and waiting.

I caught on after three tries. "Okay, I can play the key game," I said, grasping the metal until the teeth stung my palm. "Can you?" I tossed it to Elias.

My brother frowned. "I can play the key game," he said.

My father shook his head. "Unfortunately, you cannot."

We were in several rounds, but my brother couldn't notice it for the life of him. My mother watched us, face blank, eyes darting.

"Okay," I said slowly, staring him in his eyes, willing him to understand. It was such a silly riddle. "I can play the key game, can you?"

Finally, his face lit up, and he caught the keys between his palms. "Okay," he said, "I can play the key game. Can you?"

He tossed the key to my father, who snatched it mid-air. He frowned between us. He raised the key, examined its teeth.

Then, in one swipe, sliced them across my brother's face.

He screamed, falling backwards. My mother watched with wide eyes and mouth agape, but she didn't say anything. She simply crawled over and pulled me into her arms, shielding my face from the glinting key in the family room's bloodied air.

"This is a game, Echo," my father snapped, turning dark eyes on me. "The objective is to win. There's only one winner."

"I just wanted to help," I yelled. My mother shushed me, yanked me away back into her arms.

My father bent down. "It's his life or yours," he whispered. "He's another you." My father dropped the key at my feet with a clang. "Who wins?"

I turned my face toward my mother. "I want to go back home," I whispered.

"This is home," my father said. "If you want out, then I suggest you stop worrying about 'helping', and more about winning. Do you think he'd help you?" He glanced down at my brother, who was bent on all fours, the blood dripping from the gash beneath his eye. "He wouldn't have hesitated to let you play until your tongue fell out."

I squeezed my fists tight. Maybe because I knew he was right, and the feeling of foolishness was just as rancid as the feeling of losing.

My mother clutched me close, her eyes following my father as he left. She watched Elias like he was a stranger, a stray dog that had wandered into a sanctimonial home; she looked at him like she looked at our father.

"It's his life or yours, Echo," she whispered in my ear. "You need to make sure it's yours."

She tucked the bloodied key into the pocket of her blue cardigan. We sat rocking back and forth in the moonlight, until my brother cried himself to sleep alone.

We never played another game thereafter.

We were just too scared to lose.

__________________

All of Corvus was at the Corvidae in a matter of minutes.

Coach and Ramos were near the Corvidae. Cops encircled the stadium's outskirts, gesturing up at the crude words as they chattered away to each other, to Edwards. Security guards were mid-interview, and as if the scene couldn't get any worse, cameras accompanying fervent reporters lay just beyond them, capturing the whole bloody scene in fucking 4K.

"You're kidding," I sighed. "Tell me you're kidding."

"Echo Yun?" I turned around. A young cop, her blonde hair tied back into a wicked bun, gave me a polyethylene smile. "I'm Detective Ollie May. Could I have a word with you?"

"Me," I repeated.

"Yes, you. About the..."

"Decor?" I drawled. Detective May pursed her lips, then nodded. I yanked my hood over my hair, half to keep any more eyes from spotting me, and half to shield said decor from my peripheral. "All right."

Kane said, "Corvus is on their way. We'll meet them in the lounge."

"I'd like to talk to Mister Yun alone," Detective May said.

Kane raised a brow at her. "Why?"

"We have a strict code of confidentiality, and—"

"I think your 'confidentiality' was broken the moment you let the press waltz under the yellow tape," he snapped. "Either you talk to both of us or you talk to neither."

Detective May pursed her lips, but didn't deny his request. She said, "We just need to know if this was provoked or not. We heard you got into a fight with a fellow athlete earlier."

I blinked. Detectives and cops were off-limits for all sorts of reasons, and just the idea that she already knew about Harrison sent me reeling. I swallowed, glanced at Kane. He raised a brow, then said in curt Korean, "You don't have to talk to her."

I drummed my fingers on my leg. "Do you know who did it?" I asked May.

"What we're trying to figure out," she admitted. "Can I ask about this fight?"

"What about it?"

"What happened, who started it, why it happened," she said.

"Argument, Harrison, and you ought to ask him," I replied. I took a step back. "Is that all?"

She frowned. "We're trying to help."

"That's everything I can tell you. We were in the Talon."

May cocked her head, but she didn't argue with me. She nodded at us. "Then, thank you," she replied, and turned to leave.

I whirled on Kane. "Where's Corvus?"

Kane watched May until she was far enough for his liking, then said, "That's Kenzo's car."

Sure enough, Kenzo's beast of a car pulled up in the middle of the lot, parking as if to make its own parking rules. Corvus piled out one by one, hurrying towards the Talon. Rosalie didn't even let the door shut behind Kenzo before she was shouting.

"What the actual fuck kind of security do we have that we need three swipes to get to our damn rooms before these people can just waltz by the gates and ruin our stadium?" she yelled. "If that shit is permanent, I'm suing."

"What the hell could have happened while we were gone? It's barely been two hours!" Diego exclaimed. We headed for the Corvidae's entrance where cops and reporters alike were swarming like flies. He pulled his hood over his head. "Oh, God. What is that?" he gagged, staring up in horror at the stadium's gruesome vandalism.

Kane pushed me forward to step in between them. "That's what we're finding out," he said. "Head to the locker room, we can't talk with all these reporters out."

Edwards and Ramos spotted us just as the first newswoman did. They hurried to get between us and her, but the accompanying cameraman was quicker and shoved the camera so close to my face I was surprised I wasn't phasing through it.

"Echo, please," the woman said. "Can you tell us what you think of this?"

I glanced from her to the Corvidae and back. I shrugged. "Uh," I said. "Go to Hell?"

The reporters flooded us like wild hornets. Kane and Edwards pushed us forward at breakneck speed, allowing not even one mic to intercept us. Cops pushed the crowd back until we were inside the gates, and a guard slammed them shut behind us.

Wynter flicked in the temple. "Seriously?"

"She asked," I muttered.

"Lounge," Edwards hollered. "Now.

We headed inside.

Edwards shut the door behind us, trapping out eavesdropping ears or stray pieces of conversation. Ramos stood to the side, waiting. We gathered on the couches and the benches, the silence around us thick as styrofoam and penetrable only by Edwards heavy sighs. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I want that trash off our walls," Rosalie demanded. "We'll wash it off ourselves if we have to."

"It had to be Harrison," Wynter said. "There's no other explanation. They don't even need an investigation."

"They found holes in the soccer fields," Edwards explained, sitting in the center of us on the ottoman. "If it was Harrison, he had help. And they already interviewed him and the team, they didn't seem to have any more knowledge about it than us. So we're not gonna go finding anyone, the police is here for a reason, leave it to them. Yun." I snapped my head to her. "Are you okay?"

Everyone looked at me. I opened my mouth, closed it. I dug my nails into my palm.

"I'm sorry," was all I found myself saying. I thought Kane had meant the racing, the track, the game. But being on Corvus, that was the easy part. Everything that came from and for it, that's what he'd given the teeth. Why should I trust you? "This is my fault."

Wynter sighed. "We're not trying to blame you."

"Still," I said. "If I'd just taken the press for what it was, there'd be no reason for them to pitch half the racing fans of the nation on me. I should've..." I glanced at Ramos. "I didn't think."

"No, you didn't." Rosalie unwound her legs and sat up, crossing her arms. "You're a menace and a half, Yun, but that doesn't warrant something like this. You don't owe us an apology, the goddamn press does."

"Frankly, I say you owe the press even less now," Zahir added with a nod. "It's not like they've tried to help you out."

"I'd like to go back to the idea of eating them," Diego added. "We'll barbecue them like kebabs."

"He's a vegetarian," Kenzo said.

"Why must you ruin my fun?"

"Why are we acting like this is a surprise?" Everyone turned to Kane, who, besides Kenzo, was the only one who looked remotely calm, even next to Coach. He gestured at me. "He's a Class III Stirling. What did we expect? If anything, this is probably just the first wave."

"Positive as ever, King, thank you," Rosalie snapped. "You can't be serious about telling us this is okay."

"I never said that," he argued. "It's jarring, but it's not surprising. What with him and his mouth, I'm more surprised it's taken this long for something to happen. Now that it has, it'll probably keep up until Red."

"Then, what do we do?" Meredith asked.

"We race," he said simply. "What else is there to do? It's not like it'll matter what we tell them. They know what they want to say."

"No," Meredith tried. "What do we do?" She gestured around the group, as if to mean something with more gravitas than just the press could hold.

Kane's face settled, his black eyes raking over us, pausing on me. He glanced at Edwards. "We knew what we were doing, recruiting Echo. And I can imagine Echo knew what he was getting into being recruited. This isn't something that's done. Doing it, as Corvus, isn't supposed to be easy." He turned his eyes on me. "But if we fall apart at every single thing that goes wrong or blow up at every jackass that says something we don't like, we'll be killing our chances before we even get close. So stop trying to do everything on your own, and stop trying to face the press by yourself. Trust that I know what we're doing with this team," he said. "Trust that we know how to get where we need to go."

I went quiet. If guilt was a tangible thing, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach like an oblong rock, a jagged dagger, slicing through the lining of my stomach like a silver blade. I touched my lips. I swore if I spoke, I'd spit up dark blood and too much honesty.

Coach let out a hefty breath. "King is right," she said. "This team isn't gonna survive a press massacre like this for the season if you're not in together. The last thing you all need to be is disjointed. If anything, you need each other more than ever." She gave me a look at the last part. She clasped her hands together. "Forget practice for tomorrow. I'm gonna be out of the stadium all day anyway, so consider it a day off. Go do something stupid like regular college kids, get your mind off all this until tomorrow."

"What are we supposed to?" Wynter said.

"Do homework, knit a blanket, rob a neighbor, I don't know." She gestured to the door. "Or, at the very least, get some rest. I'll stay here to deal with this. No, I'm sorry, are you not in college?" She pushed Kane back into his seat before he could stand. "All of you as in all of you. Get out of here, be normal kids, for once. Please."

We could dream.

Kane frowned. He opened his mouth to argue, but Ramos was already interceding. "I agree with Emeline, it'd be best for you all to get out of here and leave the drama on campus." She gestured towards the exit. "Go on. Before the press break down the door, yes?" She gave Kane a look.

He huffed, but obeyed. He gestured outside. "Come on, let's go."

We all rose to our feet. My shoulders were heavy with the weight of red paint and the words lingering in the lounge, Corvus's presence around me both a comfort and a damnation to be surrounded by. I pushed my knuckles into my diaphragm in some futile attempt to force the breath back into my lungs, to force the words to register and not clatter about in my head until the cacophony was beyond recognition.

I raked fingers through my hair. Between the heat of my bruised body, Mercy's lingering threats, and the faint smoke of Kane's mouth that refused to leave me no matter how tired I tried to convince myself to act, Edwards had one point: I desperately needed something to get my mind off of things.

I rubbed my temples. Forget a nap. I needed to be cryogenically frozen.

"Echo." I paused in my steps. Ramos held out her hand, a breath away from grasping my arm. "Are you okay?"

I paused. "It's all right," I said.

"I didn't ask if it was all right," she argued. "I asked if you were okay."

"I told you."

"Those are not the same things," she said, but she smiled sadly as she said it. "Are you okay?"

I opened my mouth, closed it. When I smiled, it pulled at the bruises on my face, and I swallowed the ache. "Yes," I lied. "Thanks, Ramos."

She let me go, even if her face said she didn't believe me as much as I didn't believe me. Still, I was grateful to be released, and I slipped out of the lounge to congregate with the rest of Corvus outside the locker rooms. We stood in the shadows of the tunnel, where Meredith was already well underway to planning a way to get the hell out of here.

Meredith faced us with a determined look. "Enough of this moping," she announced. "Let's all get some sleep and go to a movie. Tall Tail is out, right? We can make a late lunch of it, go to the Moon King Plaza Theater."

We frowned at her, then Diego stretched his arms up with a comical yawn. "On one hand, I'm fucking exhausted," he admitted, then smiled weakly at her. "But I also don't think I can stand to stay in the Talon for an entire day after this. Everyone is gonna be on our asses left and right. I say movie."

"Tall Tail? The cartoon?" Rosalie said, wrinkling her nose. "Forget that. Let's watch the fifth Lycans of the Caribbean. Came out yesterday."

"A completely unrealistic depiction of pirating lycans, by the way," Wynter vouched.

"Exactly," Diego said. "There are no lycans in the Caribbean."

"Isn't your aunt from the Caribbean?" Zahir said.

"Why do you never help me?"

Kenzo hummed. "I'll drive."

"Whoa, does Kenzo actually want to go out with us? For fun?" Diego exclaimed and slung an arm around him with a hoot. "Damn, we really are scared shitless by those thieves if he's willing to come along—ow." He glared at Rosalie, who pretended not to see him.

Rosalie bumped Zoe's shoulder, who had been quiet. "Come on," she said. "It'll be fun."

Wynter ruffled Zoe's hair. Zoe smiled. "Yeah, okay. Let's go."

"Yun, you in? Don't make us give a presentation on why you need to spend quality time with Avaldi's finest," Diego said, preening. "I'm getting serious muscle from dragging your ass around with us everywhere."

To my surprise, I said, "Okay."

They all turned to me. "Okay?" Meredith repeated, grinning wider.

"I don't have class and I've never seen the movie," I said. "I'll go."

They gaped at me. Wynter whacked Zahir, who yelped. "You guys broke him."

"Why am I always the scapegoat?" he murmured.

"Are you on a dare? You got a brain injury from that black eye that made you want to actually be social?" Rosalie snarked.

"Yun is going!" Meredith applauded, glancing at Kane. "King?"

Kane shook his head. "Homework."

"There's no 'homework'." Diego pointed at me. "Your trackee is going. So you have to go. Those are the rules." He leaned in to wink at Kane, then paused. "What happened to your lip?"

We both froze at that. Kane's eyes darted in every direction but mine, before he said curtly, "I fell."

"How'd you fall only on your lip?" Zoe asked.

"Team outing!" Meredith said happily. "I haven't been to a movie in ages."

"And exactly in that one spot," Diego added, narrowing his eyes. He threw his head back with a raucous laugh. "Did someone bite it off?"

I choked on the air, naturally. Kenzo smacked the back of my neck like that'd help. When it didn't, he said, "Caribbean has a better budget."

"Caribbean it is, not that there's any bias there," Diego said, eyeing Rosalie, who sneered a mocking smile at him. "Yeesh, cobayo. Take a breath."

Kane shoved them all towards the exits. "Let's get some rest."

The Caribbean, I thought as I trailed behind them, breath vacant in my lungs, sounds real fucking nice right now.

___________________

I was cornered upon awakening. A sleeping mouse, surrounded by creeping cats. How was I to defend myself?

"Good morning!" the girls chorused.

I wasted no time in my bleary state. I grabbed the nearest pillow, and slammed into the closest face.

Wynter screamed on collision and flew back on the floor. Meredith and Zoe began to scream. Rosalie sighed.

I clambered over my sheets and, past my grogginess, grabbed another pillow. My feet hit the floor, and I smacked the other pillow into someone else. Likely Meredith, if the yelp meant anything.

Someone yelled something. I couldn't even really see, considering my hair was covering most of my eyes and four hours of sleep had supplied me with only half my working brain. I tripped over a leg of sorts and twirled around. My back crashed against the dresser and I went careening forward. I grabbed the nearest surface to try and stay upright.

The nearest surface ended up being something strangely body-shaped and torso-esque. Whatever it was, it wasn't any steadier than me, and I tipped down, taking it with me down to the hard, cold, unforgiving floor.

"And that is why," Rosalie said, her voice growing closer as she likely leaned down towards me, "you set alarms, Yun."

I groaned. I tried to push myself up, but my hands pressed into something skin-like and panic shot up my forearms. I wrenched myself away and knocked my head into a hand. I barely had time to curse before said hand was snagging me by the shoulder to still me.

"For fuck's sake," Kane groaned under his breath. "Are you sure you're not half-blind?"

I yanked my head up. Kane stared back. I stared back. I had a sudden thought perhaps Mercy should've left me to die in Korea.

After a beat, I said, "I thought you were partially blind."

"You said 'same difference'."

"Well, anatomically speaking," I said, then frowned. "How did you get in here?"

Kane looked unimpressed. "I live here."

I said, "Ah."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Diego hooted from behind us, cackling. "We walk in on something here?"

"No," we snapped.

Kenzo wasn't far behind him. He raised a brow at me. "No fucking in the dorms."

"And we're done." I shoved myself off of Kane, not entirely caring for how my elbow nearly struck him in the jaw. Zoe helped me to my feet and I brushed myself off. "What the hell is wrong with you people? You can't just storm in here when someone's sleeping."

"Really?" Diego said. "I think that's how we woke Meredith up for all of spring semester."

Meredith nodded in agreement, hugging my weaponized pillow to her chest. "It was."

"Well, clearly it's not for everyone." Wynter glowered at me. She threw the pillow back on the bed. "You tried to kill us!"

"It's the burning psychosis in my hateful heart. Wanna see?" I took the pillow from Meredith.

"Give me that." Rosalie snagged it from my clutches. "Take your psychosis and your puny heart and get dressed. Movie's in thirty, we're taking the team van, I ran it by Coach." She pointed at me. "We did some spring cleaning on your closet by the way. Wear some real fucking clothes, please."

"You what?"

"We just hid them," Zoe assured. "Just for a little while."

"You hid my clothes?"

"Don't be late!" Rosalie called, and disappeared out the door.

Meredith glanced back, then smiled at me. "Hey, Yun," she said. "You should wear that cardigan. The blue one."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Gets cold in the theater, obviously."

"It does?"

Diego scoffed. "Don't tell me you have never been to a movie theater, cobayo."

I shrugged. "Never had time."

Corvus began to sputter, but Kane shot them a steel look to silence them. He said, "Well, you're going to one now. And it does get cold." He walked towards the door, rolling his shoulder as he went. "We leave in ten."

He shoved the rest of them out against their protests, pushing them forward. Meredith smiled over her shoulder at me, pointing at my closet with a wink.

I leaned against the now-crooked dresser, rubbing at my eyes with a heavy breath. I touched my lips, and felt heat.

It was with a great agony that I did eventually put on the blue cardigan, even if the sensation of the wool pulled at my nerves a bit. I searched through my re-made closet for something that seemed durable enough to survive me and inexpensive enough to minimize the guilt, settling for a pale shirt that read CHERRY POP in embroidered red and a pair of blue jeans that was already missing fabric at the torn knees. My shoes had also been strategically replaced, leaving me with no other options but a pair of white sneakers and a great bout of contempt.

"See?" Diego said upon seeing me walk out. "Don't you feel much better?"

"I feel ten times more likely to be robbed," I replied.

"Statistically true," Zahir said.

"Don't help him. Why don't you ever help me?"

Zoe winked and jostled my shoulder. "You look smashing. Now, theater? I want munchies."

Afternoon classes left the Talon relatively quiet, and some of Corvus had foregone their classes in favor of taking the day, although the peace was not something we were complaining about. We descended together to the parking garage, where the team van was hidden away. Kenzo gestured at it. Everyone piled in accordingly, to my dismay.

Kane sat beside me in the middle row, only the window as my other form of company on my left. He looked about as happy to be next to me as I was. Which wasn't very much at all.

You've never known the discomfort of being left with no one to talk to but a Class I Drachmann Alpha of a pack you've been exiled from, a sport you're racing for to pay off an insurmountable debt to save your throat from being hacked to pieces in months' time by your twin brother and mother-murdering father and also to find some small semblance of joy in a decrepit world, and a family who has a direct relation to the family that has resigned you to hacking up strangers' corpses and shooting up unsuspecting subsidiaries under the command of a capital criminal fae just to pay for a pack of gummy bears and the occasional Stirling Stir-Up at your local Wendy's.

Until you're sitting right next to them, that is.

But I have a feeling that's a me problem.

Kane tugged at the collar of his black sweater. He said, "So."

I nodded. "So."

Corvus seemed completely content, for once, to talk to those in their given seats and pay us no mind. Paying no mind at the exact time when some mind would not be minded. I figured I just had one of those faces.

I cleared my throat. "Which ones are those?" I tried, glancing at his blaring white and lapis shoes. I had the fleeting wonder about just how many pairs he owned, considering how rare—if at all—it was that I saw the same pair twice.

He hesitated, but then said, "Jordans. Motorsport." He gestured down at my shoes.

"Er, Nike-somethings," I muttered.

He tilted his head. "Air Force?"

"They're from the air force?"

"What? No." Kane let out a sharp breath of air, and it took a second for me to realize it was a laugh. "It's the shoe name."

"Whatever you say." I leaned my head against the seat. I tried not to think about the cotton in my nose, that was quickly starting to clog my lungs. "So," I said.

Kane switched to Korean in a heartbeat. "Why did you say that?"

"What?"

"About me having a boyfriend," he said. His eyes were set on the back of Kenzo's head.

I did not need somebody's boyfriend after me on top of everyone who was already after me. If I acquired another vendetta on my name, I'd turn into a damn Kill Bill volume. Furthermore, boyfriended or not, kissing anybody was completely out of my jurisdiction. Kane was already a bit close for comfort with being my tracker and Corvus's captain and sort-of friend. Any closer and I'd start squirming or—God forbid—Mercy would start asking. She'd torn up my face over a tracking. I didn't want to imagine what'd she do over a kiss, let alone, a kiss with Kane King.

"I don't think we should talk about this," I said.

"Tell me why you said that."

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't. Did someone say something to you?"

"No, and it doesn't matter. Wherever I heard it, someone who has a boyfriend really shouldn't go around kissing other people, so for both our sakes, let's just pretend it never happened," I snapped.

"Hey, hey," Diego leaned over the seat. "What'd we say about language barriers?"

"Nearly every one of us speaks another language," Rosalie said. "You're just nosy."

"And proud of it at that," he replied. "What're you two being so secretive over?"

"Better not be about that stadium."

"King, get on that, by the way," Wynter said.

Rosalie and Meredith leaned over at him. "Do not get on that," they demanded.

Kane shook his head. "God help me," he muttered.

Then Kenzo spoke. "You don't have a boyfriend."

I froze, going cold all over. It wasn't even the words Kenzo had said, but rather, the language he'd said it in. The Japanese wasn't just jarring, it was downright chilling. The worse end of that was it wasn't a statement, but a reply, which meant he knew what Kane and I had said.

Kane paused. He grabbed the seat in front of him and shot back, "Kikanaide kudasai."

"We just talked about this," Diego said, offended.

"You're talking loud," Kenzo replied. "What's he talking about?"

"Oh, so he'll talk in Japanese, but not in English," Diego deduced.

"I knew I should've taken Japanese first year," Zahir murmured.

"Nothing," Kane snapped. "Just drive. Don't eavesdrop."

"You're crazy," Kenzo replied blankly. "I thought you said no dating in the group."

I gaped, and before I could stop myself, blurted out, "You speak Korean?"

Everyone went quiet. Kane swiveled his head to me. Realization was a sick, stupid blade in my gut. Forget my face or my luck. My mouth was the only culprit of my misfortune.

Kane eyed me. "You speak Japanese?"

Diego said, "Wait, Kenzo speaks Korean?"

Zoe said, "Wait, Echo speaks Japanese?"

Zahir stared at me. "How many languages do you speak?"

"Whatever I need to," I settled for, and Corvus descended into skeptical glances.

Kenzo glanced at me through the rearview. "For a kid with so many secrets," he said for only me to hear, "you're a pretty bad liar."

Corvus looked to me for a translation, but I just slumped against my seat and stared off out the window.

Tell me about it, I thought.

Moon King Plaza Theater was a movie theater located in the center of an expansive center plaza in the upper edge of downtown LA, which acted as one of the dozens of branches of the human-owned Moon King brand that occupied a large section of the LA streets from Beverly Boulevard to Cloud Avenue to South Grand Avenue. The plaza sat on the upper edge of it, closer to Avaldi, and boasted a modern monstrosity of outlets, restaurants, and the theater itself.

The theater was a glass and crystal monument of modern entertainment, brushed gold and spotted red. Humans mainly lingered in the lower part of the Moon King world, but a few came up for the experience of the theater, and took their chances to pose with cardboard action explosions or high-definition aliens. The inside was a red and yellow parade of over-processed candy, overpriced soft drinks, over-buttered popcorn, and underpaid staff of pixies flittering from one register to the other and ghouls sweeping up trash in the comfortable dark of the theaters. Most college kids occupied the late night showings, leaving the older adults to have their fun at the matinees. Pity for them, since we were not most college kids.

"Move the fuck aside," Rosalie said, shoving Diego away. "I want the Starburst."

"Starburst has titanium dioxide," Kenzo said.

"Must be what makes it so delicious." She plucked two off the rack.

"I want some pop," Zoe said.

"Don't fall for that corporate crap," Wynter replied.

"You're getting a large!"

"And what of it?"

"I forgot my wallet," Diego said, then smiled brightly at Zahir.

"Is Zahir paying? I want popcorn, too," Meredith said, earning a gasp from Zahir.

Kenzo said, "I'm getting black licorice."

Diego gaped. "Un monstruo."

Kane pushed him forward. "Quit holding up the line and just order. I'll pay."

Everyone shrugged and rushed the register at that one.

"They're acting like they're not rich themselves," I scoffed. Kane waited for me to go, but I said, "Go. I'm not getting anything."

Meredith turned her head at me. Did this team double major in eavesdropping? "It's a movie, Echo. You always need snacks at a movie. Rule of thumb."

"Like nachos," Zahir said, and turned a significant look at Diego who was mid-order.

I shook my head. "It's fine. Didn't bring my wallet anyway."

"You didn't even eat breakfast," Meredith argued.

Kane rolled his eyes. He grabbed a bag of gummy bears from the nearest rack and tossed them at me. I let it hit my shoulder and fall on the ground. He rolled his eyes. He grabbed it from the ground and pushed past Zahir to place it on the counter.

"I said it's fine," I tried. "Hey, don't—"

"Hey," he replied, handing the cashier his card, "is for horses."

I'd never tell you about the smile he gave me. Not in this lifetime.

Everyone gathered their snacks and headed out. Kane handed me the gummy bears and a bottle of water. He walked empty-handed.

"So you buy shit I didn't ask for but nothing for you," I said. "A philanthropist, really."

"I already ate," he said. "And it's just candy."

"I'll pay you back."

"Don't," he said.

The pixie at the threshold of the theaters smiled brightly up at us and waved. "Hello! What movie are we seeing today?"

"Lycans of the Caribbean," Rosalie hurried, and handed her the pile of tickets.

She grinned. "Great watch, so fun!" she said with a laugh. "Dead Wolves Tell No Tails."

For a second, I thought she was talking to me.

So, no one thought to tell me in a theater, you share a fucking armrest?

Thanks for nothing.

Kane and I stared at the seats. I turned to Zoe. "I'll give you these gummy bears if you trade seats with me."

Zoe frowned. "I don't like gummy bears."

I gaped. "Goemul."

"Sit your asses down already," Wynter snapped. "You're blocking my view."

"It's previews," Zoe said.

"Previews we paid to see."

"Meredith paid."

"Sit down, Davenport."

She gave me a shrug. "Sorry. Corvus seating."

Kane turned to Rosalie, but she held her popcorn up to hide her face. "Oh, don't even," she said. "I'm not sitting next to you. You're just gonna spout all the fucking historical inaccuracies in my ear the whole time, and you are not ruining this movie for me."

Diego grinned evilly up at him. "¿Qué es esto? Are you mad about the seating arrangement? The one that you created and vouched for that we should never deviate from?"

Corvus beamed, satisfied at that. Kane sighed. Diego shooed us away.

We sat down.

If this was what I was missing out on going to a theater, ignorance really was bliss.

The previews weren't helping, if you can believe it.

"Oh, Boys to Boys," Zoe gushed. "I heard you're just gutted after watching it though."

"It's two boys that fall in love in the fifties," Meredith explained to me. "Tragic. So beautiful though. Love, that is."

I swallowed. "Uh. Sure."

"The Forbidden Kiss," Wynter repeated, and snorted. "Who's going around kissing someone they shouldn't be kissing anyway? Self-control, I say."

"The Triangle looks fun though," Zahir said. "Gangster stories are always interesting."

"A gangster? In love with a damn celebrity?" Rosalie recounted, and shook her head. "The press would figure it out in a second. And what celebrity would want to go out with a freaking criminal?"

I choked on my water. Kenzo hummed.

"Oh! I want to see that though," Zoe said, gesturing at the screen. "I love a star-crossed lovers story."

"No way, just tragic," Diego said. "That kind of story never ends well. Someone always ends up being lied to or being cheated out of an honest relationship. No es bueno para el corazón."

"Hey, hey, a racing movie," Zahir said.

"A love racing movie. Who the hell watches sports romances? No respectable athlete has the time to date," Rosalie argued. "Unless they're dating within the team, but that's stupid."

"Why the hell are there only romance movies in a preview for a fucking action film?" Kane muttered.

"Aw, what's wrong, King? You lonely? Ow." Diego frowned at Zahir, who sent him a strangely serious look.

Kane rubbed his temples. I sank lower in the seat.

The previews finally faded out, and only by the mercy of the universe, did the movie finally begin.

It took me approximately three minutes to realize the movie required prior movies for context, and I, in fact, had absolutely no idea what was going on.

I nudged Meredith. "Meredith," I whispered, "what's—"

"Shh," Corvus snapped.

Meredith held her finger to her lips and grinned. I glanced at Kane. I tapped his arm.

He didn't face me, but said, "What?"

"King! Whisper!" Zoe hissed.

He glared, then whispered, "What?"

"Do you...know the movie?"

"Is that a real question?"

"I don't know the plot," I shot back.

"Whisper," Rosalie snarled.

Kane shook his head. "Look it up on your phone."

"Didn't bring it."

"What the hell is the point of you having a phone if you don't bring it with you?"

"Then can I use your phone?"

"What the—no."

"Then tell me what's happening."

"Can't you just watch it and use context clues?"

"You're my context clue. What's it about?"

Kane sighed, but he shifted in his seat to lean in. He planted his arm next to mine on the armrest and I tried not to focus on the heat of his hand pressing against mine.

"The whole movie is a historical stretch since this was during the European Teeth War and the British would've never taken on any convicted lycan with all the political backlash that would've come of it from the Italian and French—and most of it is inaccurate since the ghouls' Armada were mid-treaty with the Hawthorn pack in France and any attack would've rendered that void and started the Armada-Hawthorn War five years earlier than it was. You have to remember fae were common pirate allies and pirate market buyers and were undergoing major trade tensions with the Armada was it was up until the nineteenth century, so this is either in the wrong ocean or it's wanting us to assume it's closer to the Indian Ocean, not that that would make sense since this place is based off the Bermuda Triangle which is in the North Atlantic."

"What did we just talk about?" Rosalie groaned.

He shrugged. "For context."

"How do you even have the energy to think about all that over a movie?" I said.

"Five movies."

"Shh," the theater snapped.

"How do you know so much about pirates anyway?" I asked.

"I just know the time period, and you should know basic lycan history."

"Stirlings had no stake in the game," I argued. "Our pirate history ends at the Boston Tea Party."

"Stirlings had a low population in the North in the 1700s, you're thinking of the Stirling Party in the 1900s during the Great Migration."

"You need a hobby."

"This is my hobby."

"I can't believe you just admitted out loud that history is your hobby, are you ninety and abandoned?"

"Shh," the theater snapped.

"It's my major."

"No judgment, just pity," I bit back, jabbing my finger at his chest.

"That's judgment."

"Oh, well, look at you, professor, my bad."

"What's with your attitude?"

"What's with your attitude?"

"It's not my fault you don't know American history."

"No American knows American history! And you don't count, so don't even."

"Stirlings weren't even American until the 1910s, so you're not any more American than me."

"Drachmanns weren't American until...until—"

"1700s."

"That's racist."

Kane switched to Korean in a blink. "Neo michyeosseo, ala?"

"Geurom! Naneun michyeossda," I hissed back. "And you're so sane, spouting random history like a hermit librarian with one shoe and a glass eye."

"I'm not the one throwing a fit over the North Atlantic ocean!"

"I'm not the one who pretends to shotgun someone only to kiss them when they have a boyfriend."

"I don't have a fucking boyfriend."

I paused for a long, long minute. "What?" I said.

Kane opened his mouth to reply, but was promptly interrupted by a blaring spotlight. It shone down the aisle, through the seats, and right at us.

"Hello, hello!" a tuxedo-ed pixie said, waving. "Sorry there, but we're going to have to ask you to leave. Whoopsie!"

"What?" we exclaimed.

"Says who?" Kane asked.

"Us," the theater said.

We looked at Corvus, but they only shrugged. Rosalie glowered and pointed at my face. "I told you," she said.

I gasped. "Mutiny."

"That's not what mutiny is," Kane said.

"Why don't you take your facts and shove it down your—"

"'Scuse me, 'scuse me, 'scuse me!" the pixie said again. "Gotta leave now, sirs. Come again next time. Not this time, though, y'all are mighty loud. You're banned for the day. Thanks!"

I closed my eyes with a sigh.

We saw ourselves out, Corvus shaking their heads in our wake.

"We'll find you at the entrance later!" Meredith promised.

"Mutiny," I replied.

Kane pushed me along. "Just go."

We went.

"Can I take you anywhere? That's a genuine question, by the way." Kane shut the door behind us and we weaved our way back through the halls. The pixie opened the door for us and we walked out into the Moon King Plaza. "I'm supposed to be keeping you out of trouble, not getting into it with you."

"Sounds like a tracker problem," I sighed.

He shook his head. "You're insufferable." Kane headed down the length of the walkway. He turned the corner for the bathroom.

"Oh, I'm insufferable." I chased after him and let the door swing closed behind me. We were alone, which was nice, since I could have the option of strangling Kane without any witnesses. "I wasn't arguing with myself."

"There wouldn't have been an argument in the first place if you hadn't made such a deal."

"Call the kettle black, why don't you? You're the drama queen."

"Drama queen?" Kane flicked the faucet on to scrub his hands clean of the movie theater's germs. "I was talking about pirates."

"I was talking about pirates," I said. I slid next to him to wash my own hands. "And I was just joking. Christ, you're serious."

"I was joking, and you're snappy."

I scoffed. I plucked a paper towel off the stack and dried my hands. I faced him with a pointed look. "Snappy?"

Kane dried his own hands. He leaned against the sink counter. "Why are you always defensive about everything?" he said, exasperated. "Why can't I just have a conversation with you?"

"When you're more fun to have a conversation with."

"I was just kidding," he sighed.

"So was I," I said.

"Well, you don't seem like you're kidding."

"You don't seem like you're kidding. You say jokes like it's an announcement." I positioned myself upright and held a fist to my chest. "A public service announcement: Fear not, citizens. I was just kidding. Ha-ha! God bless."

Kane gaped at me. I waited for him to shoot back.

But he dropped his head instead, and began to laugh. The sound was gravelly and resonant, shaking his chest and shoulders. My ribs tugged at themselves, like trying to cave in where they sat before my spine.

Then I laughed, the sound climbing out of my lungs with a pop, honest and low. We stood facing each other in the white light, laughing quietly in the echo of the empty bathroom. Kane threaded his fingers through his hair.

"Ah, jinja," he breathed. "Maybe we're both crazy."

"Don't drag me down with you," I said.

He smiled. Crooked and wrapped up with one dimple. I felt every one of my thirty four major veins getting ready to burst open.

"Sorry I yelled at you," I said. I leaned against the counter, hip to hip with him.

He waved that away. "Me, too."

"I think it's just my preferred means of communication."

Another laugh. Pop went my veins. "I can see that," he said. "I think it's a tracker thing."

"Could be a trackee thing."

He shrugged. "Just an us thing, then."

Pop. Pop. Pop. I was gearing to bleed out.

"You and your 'us'," I murmured.

Silence fell over the bathroom at that. Kane tapped his rings against the granite counter, like counting down.

"Why," he said, "did you think I had a boyfriend?"

Pop. Pop. I couldn't think with all the blood loss. "You said so, at the perfume store," I blurted hurriedly.

"What?"

"She asked you about a perfume for your girlfriend and you said cologne, so I thought..."

Kane turned his black gaze down at me. "You speak French."

It was a miracle I'd survived so long in this world. I pursed my lips. "Occasionally," I said.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "I can't tell if you're getting more insane or more interesting," he murmured.

"I'm sorry," I said, since it was all I could muster up.

"Don't be," he said. "But, how many languages do you speak?"

"Whatever I need to."

"Yeah, okay." He sighed. "I won't even ask."

"I just assumed you had someone."

"Seriously? The cologne has been sitting in the bathroom the entire time," he said. His laugh was dry. "For someone so smart, you're really not."

"I can never tell if you mean something in a good way or not," I muttered. "The cologne was just sitting there."

"Because I bought it for you," Kane explained. "Why else would it be there?"

I stared. I said, "Why?"

"Why?" he repeated, frowning.

"Why buy it?" I said. "Why'd you kiss me?"

It'd be the nail in my coffin to know, but I had to. I had to know what made him. My lips were on fire.

Kane considered that question. "I don't know," he said. His brows furrowed, like the answer frustrated him. "You hurt my head. I can't tell if I should kiss you or..just take a really long walk."

I blinked. "Okay," I said.

"Why'd you kiss me back?"

A good question, and one very deserving of the seizure I was about to have in the middle of this bathroom.

I swallowed. "I don't know," I echoed. "You're too honest."

"What?"

I sighed, rubbing at my temples. "I don't know," I muttered, because I didn't, not really, not willingly. Honest didn't bode well with me. Worst of all with someone like Kane. It'd make me more real than I had any business being to people like him. "You're you," was the best I could do. Kane cocked his head at me. "Stop looking at me."

"Why?"

"Whatever. I can't think."

"Think of what?"

I let my head hang. The ghost of his pulse was still under my fingertips. There weren't many surviving veins left in me. My head spun, a never-ending vertigo. I closed my eyes. "You're too honest for me," I murmured in quiet Korean. "Don't do that." I couldn't believe it, or anything else. If I did, I'd lose my last vein with it.

Kane said, "Fine. Get out of my head, then."

"How the hell do you want me doing that?"

"Don't know. Sounds like a you problem."

"You said it was an us thing."

"So there's an us?"

"That's what you said."

"I said the shouting was an us thing." I opened my eyes. Kane's eyes darted between us, our connected hips. "Is this an us thing?"

"There's no 'us' thing."

"Then stop saying it."

"Why don't you take a long walk?"

"Trackee. You have to come with."

"That's not a tracker thing."

"Then, an us thing?" And he almost smiled.

Don't do that. Fuck around with that and I'll start wanting it. I looked up at him, watching the silver earring beside his jaw flicker in time with his eyes. I whispered, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you like me or something."

"Good thing," Kane murmured, "you don't."

He leaned down, and cut my final vein in two.

If the kiss before was aflame, then this one was down right blistering. It was a brutal act, open-mouthed and urgent, lip-splitting and bruising. I held the front of his sweater in my fist and tugged him forward. He planted his palm against the counter. The granite dug into my back, as insistent as my own mouth. He bit my lip and all the blood let loose from my useless veins rushed in every direction through my body. I said something, whispered it, his name or something close to it. It felt like a bullet on my tongue, tasted just as damning.

His mouth was at my jaw, at my neck. It felt like being branded all over again, the burn sweltering on bare skin. Kane bit the skin at the base of my neck and I jerked away. His fingers threaded through my hair and pulled my head back in place, throat bared and chin pushed back under the pressure of his fingers. I groaned under the scrape of teeth at my larynx.

I yanked at his collar. "Don't be pushy," I breathed.

He swiped his thumb over my teeth and heat broiled in my stomach, climbing through my lungs, winding down my spine. "Don't be pushed," he said.

He kissed my mouth open and I leaned back into the granite just to feel something solid. My hand dropped to his chest, and my palm pushed against his heartbeat. His hand came around my waist. I would have snapped my teeth right onto his tongue at the jolt that went through my body, had the door not opened as if on cue.

Divine intervention, perhaps.

Kane shoved himself off of me and spun around the other way, just as I slung myself across the counter to the other side and nearly slipped on the tile in the process. The door swung wide. The same pixie who'd ushered us out blinked between us now. She took a minute of staring at Kane's ruined hair and my swollen mouth, before flashing us a bright grin.

"Sorry there!" she said. "This is the girls' bathroom, folks."

We looked at each other. Then at the sign on the door.

I wiped my mouth. "Nice," I drawled at Kane.

He cleared his throat. He raked his hand through his hair, and managed to make it worse. "Er, sorry."

We fled from the bathroom.

I punched his arm. "History major, my ass," I snapped. "You can't even read."

"Like you're so literate," he snapped. "You didn't see the sign either."

"Was I supposed to be reading signs in between that?"

"Be quiet."

"You be quiet."

I pushed him, but Kane caught me by my arm with a sigh. "I can't ever come back here. You've ruined this theater for me."

"Oh, you seem ruined."

"What did you—"

"Hey, hey, you two!"

We whirled around. Corvus came down the theater steps, all smiles and waving. Meredith came bouncing over with a handful of half-eaten candies, Diego at her back.

"We brought you lunch," he snickered.

"Elizabeth Swann can strangle me and I'd say thank you," Wynter told me.

"That movie was brilliant," Zoe translated.

"Are we talking Elizabeth Swann?" Diego asked. "I'm in."

"I liked the blacksmith," Zahir murmured.

Kenzo shrugged. "Terrible."

"I'm so sad you missed the movie, it was so good," Meredith pouted and hugged my arm. "We'll have to take you again next time. Another movie outing?"

"No," Kane and I chorused.

Rosalie cocked a brow. She elbowed me. "What have you two been up to anyway?"

We glanced at each other, then back at Corvus. I felt the blood loss set in.

"Nothing," we said.

ty for readin, i know potc fans r gonna be mad at me for getting much of the story wrong, but have pity, i missed that franchise train :( hope the story is going well for you all! the little star is very grateful to see you :))))