Chapter 30 Celeste
Celeste
By the time we ease into Shadow Grove, the world outside the windshield has gone blurry at the edges.
The streetlights look like they’re smudged into gold, and houses are tucked into the dark like they’re settling in for the night.
My body feels older than it is, every muscle stiff from the drive and from…
everything before it. Fourteen hours in a car doesn’t help when you’re already sore.
Lucian drove fast enough to beat the time on his GPS by a couple of hours, and we got here a little earlier than expected. The intensity of the drive softened as the day stretched on. We talked more than we ever have, and got to know each other beyond the physical relationship we had before.
We stop in front of a pale-blue Craftsman with white trim, its porch light casting a soft rectangle across the walkway.
A ceramic frog sits on the steps like a ridiculous sentinel.
The SUV idles; the engine ticks as it cools.
For a long second, we sit in the dark, the town breathing around us—maple leaves whispering, a dog barking in the distance, a porch light flicking off.
“Here we are,” Lucian says, squeezing my hand once, a small, deliberate pressure that feels like a check in, and I answer with the tiniest return squeeze because words are heavy and the night is too thin for them.
We climb out of his SUV, and the cold air hits me like a reset; I stretch the stiffness out of my shoulders and roll my neck after being folded into a vehicle for too long, and the motion feels almost obscene in its normalcy when everything else in me is frayed.
I haven’t spent enough time at Selene’s house to make the place familiar, so I keep my eyes on the path.
When I step on the porch, the absurdity of her ridiculous new doormat that reads DON’T BE WEIRD in huge block letters almost pulls a laugh out of me, which I have to swallow because I am already rehearsing the version of myself I’ll put on when we cross that threshold.
I smooth my hair with one hand as I gather myself, as I put on the slightly vacant smile I use around people who aren’t in the band or in my inner circle, my sister’s boyfriend Theo included.
I want to be small and easy and not the person I was ten minutes ago.
It’s a performance I’ve learned to put on for strangers so they don’t look too close.
Before I can knock, the door opens.
Selene is there first, filling the frame in a way that makes the porch feel like one of the safest places in the world.
She might be compact in her 5-foot frame, but she is made of lithe lines and quick movements.
I’ll never forget the moment I heard she punched a serial killer in the face for her boyfriend.
Her light hair is piled into a messy bun that somehow reads deliberate rather than careless, and her face is small and angular with high cheekbones and hazel eyes that notice everything.
She is the mother I never had. When our mother was strung out, she’d be the one to take care of me. Everything about her screams home.
Behind her, Theo fills the doorway differently.
He’s taller with broad shoulders and a physique that speaks to hours spent in the kitchen at his cafe, kneading dough.
His dark blond hair is perpetually tousled as if he’s run a hand through it a hundred times today, jaw dusted with stubble that softens the angles of his face.
He is the perfect partner for my sister; he holds space for her without her asking.
He is a golden retriever in a grown man’s body.
Then I catch a glimpse of Valkyrie, Selene’s failed TSA red Doberman, as she launches herself at us with the blunt enthusiasm of a creature who has never once doubted that joy is the correct response to everything; her entire body vibrating like a metronome on caffeine.
She doesn’t even slow down when she reaches me.
If anything, she accelerates—overshooting just enough to slam into Lucian’s side hard enough that he has to plant his feet and catch himself before she sends him straight off the porch.
His hand flashes out on instinct, steadying himself on the railing, while she rebounds like a rubber ball with zero remorse.
“Val—!” Selene calls, too late, as her dog nearly takes me down, too, which is ridiculous and perfect and exactly what I need in this moment.
And then she’s everywhere.
She orbits me in frantic, skidding circles as her paws thud against the boards, nails scrabbling for traction as she careens past my knees.
She bounces up before dropping low, and snaps into the most exaggerated play bow I’ve ever seen, with her front legs stretched long, chest nearly flat to the wood, hind end high, and her butt whipping back and forth hard enough to create its own microclimate.
A breathless whine slips from her, high and wiggly and dramatic—somewhere between delighted accusation and where have you been, you absolute menace?
I stagger, laugh breaking out of me, and Lucian mutters, “Jesus, Valkyrie,” as he tries to peel the dog off my legs.
Theo steps in to help, hands already on Valkyrie’s flank, and says, “She missed you. We all did.”
Selene opens her arms, and even though I’m taller than she is by almost half a foot, the hug she gives is fierce, the kind that says I’ve been waiting, and I will not let you fall.
This is exactly what I needed. I don’t cry, but the tension I’ve been holding onto since the moment that man grabbed me releases when her arms wrap around me.
“Let’s get the two of you inside.” Selene grabs my hand and doesn’t let go.
Lucian follows close behind with Valkyrie trotting at his heels like she owns the place and wants to make sure the welcome is properly enforced.
The house smells like warm wood and something sweet in the oven.
I smile as I notice the lighting is soft throughout the house.
I can’t help but smile at how much Selene hates the ‘big light’ as she calls it, and opts for lamps and other types of diffused lights, and I, on the other hand, thrive under the bright lights.
We follow Selene through the living room and into the kitchen, where Theo starts pulling on oven mitts with the theatrical flourish of someone who thinks he’s about to perform a small miracle.
“I tried a new muffin recipe,” he announces, swinging the oven door open like it’s a reveal. “No clue if it worked, but they smell edible, so we’re counting that as a win.”
“They smell amazing,” I say, and slide onto a stool, letting Valkyrie plop her head in my lap as she waits for the snacks I’ll sneak her when no one is looking.
Lucian comes to stand beside me; his hand finds the small of my back, a quiet, steadying weight.
Selene pours tea from the kettle and adds the perfect amount of too much honey with the casual precision of someone who’s done this a thousand times.
She passes the mug to me without a word, just a small nod that tells me she knows more than she’s letting on as she walks away.
She settles against the counter beside Theo, their shoulders brushing, and the air shifts with a new type of tension.
“As much as I love having you here,” she says, “why are you in Shadow Grove and not on Umbra’s tour?
” The question is small, but it lands like a probe to see if there is anything we can tell her without telling Theo my secret.
Lucian answers before I get the chance to.
“Someone broke into Ara’s rig a few weeks ago, and yesterday it escalated; someone tried to kidnap her.
Their tour manager said they needed to pull the dates until they can figure out who is behind the attempted abduction and when it’ll be safe to go back on the road. ”
Theo’s face goes from casual to stunned in a breath; his hand flies to his mouth, eyes wide in a way that makes him look younger than he is. “Wait—what? Are you serious? Ara? Oh my God—”
Selene’s expression changes too, and I can see the private panic behind her eyes because she knows what Theo doesn’t: Ara is not a stranger to this kitchen.
I know she’s going to try to ask about me without saying my name, and to protect the identity she’s sworn to keep.
The way she frames the next question is careful and small, like stepping across glass.
“Is—” she begins, and the syllable hangs. Her fingers curl around the counter as if she needs something to hold onto. “Is Ara okay? Is she hurt? Does this mean the entire tour is off?”
Lucian’s hand at the small of my back is steady and warm, and Selene’s eyes are on me, wide and raw and pleading without sound. Theo, still reeling, looks between Lucian and me.
“Ara’s fine, for now,” I say, and the words come out steadier than I feel.
“She’s going to be in hiding for the foreseeable future.
I think she’s staying with some family. From what I’ve heard, she has a few cuts and bruises from yesterday, but nothing that therapy can’t help with.
There was a press release today, and they’re cancelling the tour dates until the assailant is caught; everyone’s afraid of what the next escalation would look like. ”