I found my room easily enough. End of the hall, west wing. Someone, presumably Carmen, had taped a piece of paper to the door with my name scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting—the kind of calligraphy you wouldn't expect from a woman who probably drank her breakfast most mornings.

I pushed the door open and took in my new domain.

The room was smaller than my space at home, but a definite upgrade from the roach-infested shithole apartment Kaelen had rented in Roppongi during his darker days. Traditional Japanese styling. Polished wood floors that creaked slightly underfoot, a simple futon already laid out. A low desk positioned strategically by the window to catch the morning light. Through the glass sliding door, a small balcony overlooked the untamed forest surrounding the house—all twisted trees and wild undergrowth that somehow managed to look both beautiful and vaguely threatening.

I set Bartholomew's terrarium on the desk, checking to make sure the immortal little bastard had survived the trip. He was contentedly munching on a piece of lettuce, completely unbothered by the cosmic drama surrounding his owner. No concerns about entrance exams, manipulating women, or building a power base capable of toppling a corrupt Hunter society.

"Living the dream, aren't you?" I muttered.

He didn't answer. Snails rarely do, immortal or otherwise.

I unpacked. Clothes precisely arranged in the closet, tech components carefully positioned on the desk, the Liar's Brooch hidden in a specially reinforced pocket of my jacket where curious fingers wouldn't accidentally brush against it. The APHRODITE pills went straight into my inventory—too valuable and potentially incriminating to leave lying around. The FAMILIAR CONTRACT stayed there too, carefully wrapped in protective cloth to prevent accidental activation.

Not yet. That particular weapon needed the right target, and I hadn't identified who would be most valuable bound to my service for eternity.

A sharp, authoritative knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.

"It's open," I called, already knowing who it would be.

Natalia slipped inside like a winter storm, closing the door behind her with deliberate control. She'd ditched the formal jacket of her uniform, wearing just the crisp white button-up and black skirt that hugged every curve. Her purple hair was slightly mussed, like she'd been repeatedly running her hands through it in frustration—a rare break in her usually immaculate appearance.

She looked at me. Really looked at me, her violet eyes scanning me from head to toe with the intensity of a predator assessing whether to play with its food or simply devour it whole.

Then she crossed the distance in three purposeful strides and kissed me hard enough to bruise, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me down to her with possessive ferocity.

When she pulled back, her eyes were blazing with a dangerous combination of desire and fury.

"That." She punctuated each word with a finger jabbed forcefully into my chest. "Was. Completely. Unnecessary."

"Which part?" I asked, genuinely curious which of my many transgressions had triggered this particular reaction.

"All of it! The speech. The ego. The..." She gestured wildly with both hands. "The entire supervillain origin story monologue you delivered like you were auditioning for the role of 'Most Likely to Burn Down the Academy'!"

"You literally backed me up," I pointed out.

"Because someone had to, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be the healer with the heart of gold!" She turned away, paced restlessly to the window, then spun back to face me, her skirt flaring around her thighs. "You made Emi look like she wanted to cry! Your future healer, remember? The girl whose support we actually need?"

"Emi will be fine. She's tougher than she looks."

"That's not the point!" Natalia's hands clenched into fists. Then unclenched. Then clenched again. "We're supposed to be recruiting her, not traumatizing her!"

I sat on the edge of my futon.

"We are recruiting her. This is how."

"By telling her she doesn't matter?"

"By creating contrast." I looked up at her. "You're the ice queen. Powerful. Loyal. Ruthless. Everything she admires but could never be. I'm the bastard who just declared war on the entire system. Dangerous. Ambitious. The kind of man her mother warned her about."

I leaned back on my hands.

"And she's the light. The goodness we're both secretly drawn to because we've forgotten what it looks like. By tomorrow, she'll be more invested in 'fixing' us than she ever would be if I'd just been nice from the start."

Natalia stared at me.

"That's..."

"Manipulative? Yes. Effective? Also yes."

She sat down next to me. Close enough that our thighs touched.

"I hate that you're probably right."

"You don't hate it. You're just mad you didn't think of it first."

She elbowed me in the ribs. Hard.

We sat in silence for a moment. The sounds of the house settling around us. Voices from other rooms. Footsteps. The distant crash of something heavy hitting the floor, followed by Raphael shouting.

"So." Natalia's voice was quieter now. "How bad did I make it with that little performance?"

"With Emi?"

"With everyone."

I considered it.

"You made yourself a target. Anyone who wants to get to me now knows they can do it through you. But you also made yourself feared. Respected. No one's going to underestimate you." I turned to look at her. "You played your hand perfectly, my queen."

She leaned her head on my shoulder. Just for a moment. Just long enough to remind me that underneath the ice princess and the ruthless second-in-command was the girl who'd surrendered everything to me in the dark.

"We should go back down. They'll wonder where we went."

"Let them wonder."

"Satori."

"Fine." I stood, offered her my hand. She took it, let me pull her up. "But for the record? That was the last time we're alone like this until I find a way to soundproof this room or bribe Carmen into selective deafness."

"Already breaking the rules we set?"

"Establishing new ones." I kissed her forehead. "Rule one: Never let a good opportunity go to waste."

She smiled despite herself.

We left my room separately. Natalia first, heading toward the girls' wing. Me five minutes later, descending the stairs to find most of the house had migrated to the kitchen.

The smell of cooking meat hit me.

Jaime had commandeered the stove, shirtless because of course he had, cooking what looked like enough chicken to feed a small army.

"Protein!" he announced to no one in particular. "The body is a temple, and the temple requires sustenance!"

Jacob sat at the kitchen counter, datapad out, frantically typing. Marco and Malachi flanked him, watching over his shoulder.

The twins had claimed the breakfast bar, Akari perched on a stool while Hikari stood behind her.

Isabelle had taken the head of the dining table like she'd been born there. Noah stood against the wall, arms crossed, watching everyone.

Soomin hovered near the doorway, unsure where she belonged.

And in the corner, Skylar had found what looked like an expensive espresso machine and was currently coaxing it to life with the focus of a bomb tech defusing a warhead.

Emi was helping Jaime cook, her back to me, but I saw the tension in her shoulders.

"Satori!" Jaime waved a spatula. "My friend! Do you eat chicken? Of course you do. Everyone eats chicken."

I smiled and entered into the kitchen. "I could eat."

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