The mansion’s garden was almost empty. Everyone else was inside, lost in music and cheap champagne. Only the faint hum of magic disturbed the quiet.

Oh Jaegu stood beneath an arch of withered roses, muttering under his breath. Crimson sparks danced between his fingers before dying out again.

“Damn it,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair. “Why the hell can’t this work?”

He flicked his wrist, and the air cracked. The spell shattered in a burst of heat, scorching the ground at his feet.

“Shit.”

He kicked the dirt, jaw tight. He shouldn’t have come to this stupid party. Too many people. Too many scents. He could hear every heartbeat through the walls. Every laugh grated against his nerves.

He was about to try again when a soft rustle made him turn.

Cheongrok stood at the edge of the garden, the moonlight catching his dark blue hair. He looked startled, caught mid-step, his mask hanging from one hand, the other clutching his coat tighter.

“I thought everyone was inside,” Cheongrok said quietly.

Jaegu narrowed his eyes. “Clearly, you thought wrong.”