Every retort on my tongue was sharp enough to draw blood, but I swallowed them. Fighting now wouldn’t help.

Instead, I strode toward the crew, still packing our gear into the tour bus.

“I need you to load Infernal Pulse’s equipment, too,” I told them, forcing my tone to stay level even as I caught Kael’s satisfied smirk in my peripheral vision.

The note burned in my pocket like it was alive, its presence impossible to ignore. Kael had slipped it to me through one of the crew members, like some smug little game he thought I’d play along with.

A private meeting.

With all of us crammed into a tour bus for the next hour, he’d have more than one chance to corner me. And knowing Kael, he’d take every single one.

It wasn’t just the note that bothered me—it was what people would say if they saw us alone. The rumors were already bad enough. Fans had been shipping us together since the first joint show. I’d lost count of how many ridiculous “Kaeleste” edits were floating around online. Entire fanfictions had been dedicated to us—ones that Ariel delighted in reading aloud until I threatened to toss her guitar into the next crowd.

I kept my eyes forward as the crew loaded up, doing my best to pretend Kael wasn’t in my line of sight every time I turned my head. But he was. Always leaning somewhere nearby, always wearing that lazy grin that said he was thinking something I wouldn’t like. His gaze had a way of lingering too long, like he knew it would get under my skin.

Finally, it was time to board. I darted up the bus steps before anyone could slow me down, the cool blast of air-conditioning hitting my skin in sharp contrast to the sticky heat outside.

Without hesitating, I headed straight down the narrow aisle and into my room at the very back. The door shut with a solid click, and I locked it immediately.

The small space was mine, my one sanctuary in the chaos of the road. The other two rooms were shared by the girls when they wanted privacy, but more often than not, they crashed on the oversized couch in the main area. My room, though, was non-negotiable.

Posters, scattered notebooks, and the faint scent of my favorite vanilla candle filled the air, a little reminder of normalcy. I kept everything here, never unpacking for hotel stops. It was easier that way—plus, anything left at my aunt’s place had to pass her approval, and I had zero interest in having her dig through my things.

I leaned back against the door, exhaling slowly, my pulse still too quick. Kael wouldn’t give up easily—I knew that. The note in my pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

With a sharp breath, I pulled it out, the folded paper warm from my touch. My fingers curled, crumpling it into a tight ball before I tossed it into the small trash bin under my desk.

My hand found the key that always hung around my neck, the cool metal pressing against my skin as I turned toward the desk. The bottom drawer waited—its lock protecting notebooks crammed with songs that actually meant something to me. Songs I’d never show anyone.

The key had just grazed the lock when a knock echoed against my door—low, deliberate, and far too patient.

I stilled, jaw tightening. If it were one of the girls, they’d lose interest after a couple of minutes of silence. But then a voice, smooth and maddeningly smug, slid through the wood.

“You write really great songs when you actually put some meaning into them, Celeste.”

Heat curled in my chest—equal parts irritation and something I refused to name.

I bit back a curse, crossing the room in three sharp strides. The lock clicked, and I yanked the door open, grabbing Kael by the front of his shirt and pulling him inside before anyone else could see.

Kael stood there with his usual smug smirk—the kind that made my fingers itch to slap it off. But this time, the glint in his eyes wasn’t the only thing aggravating me. In his hand was one of my personal notebooks.

My stomach sank.

I extended my hand, palm flat. “Give it back, Kael.”

His smirk deepened into an amused grin, slow and deliberate, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment. Instead of complying, he casually lifted the notebook above his head, easily out of reach for my shorter stature.

“If I’m going to give this back…” His voice was low, teasing. “I want something in return.”

My eyes narrowed. “You want something in return for giving me my notebook?”

“Unless you don’t want it back.” His tone dripped with fake innocence.

I exhaled sharply, crossing my arms. “Fine. What do you want?”

He leaned in slightly, his grin curling wider. “Since we’re both songwriters… I thought you could help me with a little writer’s block. Twice a week. We write together.”

My glare sharpened. “And how exactly am I supposed to explain that to the others?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “Not my problem. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

I huffed, defeated. “Alright. When do you want to start?”

He glanced at the clock, then at my bed, before casually sitting on the edge. “We’ve got an hour, don’t we?”

"Floor." I snapped, settling myself on the floor a couple of feet away.

Kael rolled his eyes but obeyed, sliding down to the floor until his broad back rested against the side of my bed. His casual ease only made it more irritating. He handed me my notebook, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement, before pulling out one of his own.

As he flipped through the pages, I found myself doing something I’d never done before—really looking at him.

His glamour was gone.

Without it, his skin was a deep, stormy gray, the kind demons only earned from years beneath an unforgiving sun. He was massive—easily a foot taller than any mortal man, his shoulders wide, muscles defined in a way that spoke of both power and danger.

And for a moment, I almost forgot to breathe.

As if he could feel my stare, his head lifted, and his gaze locked with mine. Without the glamour, his eyes burned in that familiar blood red—unmistakably demonic. For a moment, the sight pulled at memories I’d long since buried, tucked so deep I rarely let myself touch them.

The past pressed close… until he spoke.

“Come here.”

I blinked. “What?”

“It’s going to be hard to show you what I’ve written from over there. So…” His voice was smooth, almost coaxing. “Come here.”

I considered protesting, but… he wasn’t wrong. Whatever he wanted to show me, distance wasn’t going to change it.

After a moment’s hesitation, I pushed to my feet and crossed the short space, lowering myself to sit beside him. The mattress dipped slightly behind us where his shoulder pressed against it, his tall frame angled in that annoyingly relaxed way.

I glanced at the notebook resting on his knee—only to see a completely blank page.

“There’s nothing on this page.”

A flicker of embarrassment broke through his usual smugness. “Might be more than just writer’s block,” he admitted. “Honestly, most of our songs these past few centuries have been responses to you dissing us.”

“So have we,” I admitted with a sigh, my shoulders sagging just slightly.

Kael’s smirk softened into something quieter—still edged with arrogance, but sharper in its focus. “Yeah, but your songs have always been that way,” he said, his voice dipping lower. “Never enough emotion. Not even close to the songs I found in that notebook.”

My head snapped toward him, heat rising in my chest. “My aunt would never approve those songs, and I wouldn’t want to now, leave it.” The words came out sharper than I intended, my tone almost a snap.

One of his eyebrows arched, his expression unreadable. The flicker in his dark eyes told me he had something to say, but for once, he didn’t.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. The steady hum of the bus beneath us only made the moment feel sharper, like the air itself was holding its breath.

His thigh brushed against mine—light, fleeting. Whether it was an accident or intentional, I couldn’t tell. But it was enough to send a faint ripple of awareness through me.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, and cleared it before he could fill the silence with one of his usual infuriating remarks.

“What do you want to write?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

Hey, my Royalties, I hope you like the first chapter of my book. I would love to know.