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“I’ve seen other people wearing similar ones. They’re beautiful.”

“Oh, yeah. We all have them. They make it so we can stay out of the water for longer.”

“We?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” Moxin asks, tucking the shells under the neckline of her shirt. “Sirens are water born, but all the fun happens on land. Without the necklaces, we wouldn’t be able to live above the surface for more than a few hours.”

She’s referring to her order as a siren. When I was with them at Phantom’s Cove, they had mentioned mermaids. I always assumed they were the same thing. Moxin is nothing like that creature I saw in the lake though. So, I ask, “Sirens aren’t mermaids?”

Her brows pull together, and she scrunches her lips like she’s offended. “Fuck no. Mermaids are basically grouchy fish.”

“Sorry.” I laugh. “I’m still trying to learn all of this.” Glancing around the different bodies, I look for more shell necklaces, finding none. “How can you tell what order someone is?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Well, faeries, for instance,” she starts, nodding toward Siena, “all have those pointed ears. They’re also completely gorgeous, even the guys.”

My eyes trail over the blue-haired girl, seeing the way her long lashes shadow over her high cheekbones in the light of the fire. Gorgeous is an understatement. She’s radiant. Striking and vicious in all the jaw dropping ways. I’d envy her, if her personality wasn’t that of a stale saltine cracker.

“Faeries are creatures of the forest,” Moxin continues. “They love and protect the woodland. In turn, the spirit of the trees bestows onto each faerie the gift of elements. In Siena’s case, she can sway the influence of air, bend it to her will, which is actually way cooler than it sounds,” she reassures, like it wasn’t already something I found incredibly, albeit secretly, fascinating. “With just a whisper into the wind, the gentle breeze will carry her voice to anyone, anywhere, relaying whatever message she wants to that person alone. Isn’t that neat?”

“Airmail,” I joke. “That actually is pretty cool.”

“Anyway,” her focus shifts to Ashen, “vampires have their teeth, which I’m sure you’re well aware of by now.”

“Unfortunately,” I mutter. “So when they bite you, why doesn’t the wound, you know, stay there?” Every single time Rhenn has forced his fangs into me, the punctures close within the hour, almost like they never existed in the first place. Not a bruise, sore, or even a red mark to show.

“That’s the restorative secretions in their venom.” Moxin’s eyes flick over me when I watch her blankly, like she’s bewildered at how I don’t already know any of this. “They couldn’t very well continue to feed on someone who’s already bled out from accidently puncturing an artery, now, could they? Or if their source died of infection from an open wound? Vampires want their vessels healthy.”

That explains why Rhenn basically forced me to eat at his house those first few days, then later paid for my groceries until I could afford my own. And why he housed me in the first place. Who wants to drink from a malnourished homeless girl? Obviously not my parasite.

Eye roll.

“It’s quite intimate, the whole process.” I actually laugh out loud at that statement. She ignores me. “It isn’t just blood they need. It’s how they get it. No other order needs closeness like that. To connect like that.”

“It’s not connection,” I argue. “It’s biting and taking.”

Moxin shakes her head. “Think about it. When you’re in a relationship with someone, what do you do? You get close, you embrace. Where are some of the most sensual kisses placed?”

“I swear if you say the neck⁠—”

“On the neck. Tell me how two people can be that close, that personal, sharing something so valuable as the thing we all need to survive, and feel nothing?”

I do feel. I feel used and stolen from. I don’t choose to share my blood with Rhenn. He forces it from me. Not because he needs it, or because he wants to be near me, but because he wants to take, to show me just how powerless I truly am. It isn’t intimate, it’s controlling.

“Continuing on,” Moxin says, “shifters, in general, have extremely high energy in their unchanged form. I mean, imagine having two parts inside you, one always bursting to be set free. I love my order, but being able to change your structure completely, to be so in sync with your spirit animal that you don’t only feel it, you become it, it’s truly fascinating.”

I think of Josten, how it felt on his back while he ran through the woods. No matter how breathtaking that was for me, it must have been a thousand times better for him. He was the beast. Man and wolf. And then I think of Cedric, an eagle. How incredible would it be to sprout wings and fly? Nothing but air and wind and freedom.

Rai finds her way back to us, holding out a drink for me and ending the conversation at hand. Smiling, I take a large gulp. It’s sour, tingling my lips. “What is this?” I question, trying to keep from making a face.

“Oh, just a little something I concocted for you. I hope you like it.” She shoves between me and Cedric, who—no longer an animal—managed to retrieve his jeans and is working to secure the button on them.

“Witches are great at making drinks.” Moxin winks, sipping on her own beverage.

“They’re also incredibly rude,” Cedric adds, holding his elbow to dramatize the fact she scooted him over without asking.

“What’s going on over here?” Ashen parks himself across from us, followed by Siena.

I look at the group of faces surrounding me, each one talking and laughing while they pass around a bottle of something way too strong for me.