Rune loved Halloween.

Not because of the costumes or the candy, but because it was the one night of the year when supernatural beings could walk freely among mortals without a second glance. The air buzzed with energy, magic thick in the autumn breeze, and it felt like—for just one night—he wasn’t stuck hiding in the shadows.

And what better way to celebrate than with a party for the supernatural?

It had taken some convincing, but he’d managed to drag you and Merikh along with him. The three of you stepped into the crimson-lit mansion, where the scent of burning incense, spiced cider, and something otherworldly filled the air. Laughter echoed through the grand halls, and the pulse of ancient music vibrated in your chest. The room was packed with creatures of all kinds—vampires, sirens, demons, witches, even the occasional reaper.

You adjusted the dark cloak wrapped around your shoulders, looking up at Rune, who smirked down at you.

"See? I told you this would be fun," he said, running a hand through his blonde hair. His violet eyes gleamed under the dim lights, his signature mischief almost concealing the fact that he was still avoiding one very important conversation.

Your last wish.

"I’m still not making it, Rune," you muttered, taking a sip from your drink. He exhaled in relief, but before he could say anything, Merikh grumbled beside you.

"This is ridiculous," the Archdemon muttered, arms crossed. His crimso eyes scanned the crowd with disinterest, as if debating whether he should set the place on fire just to leave early. He adjusted the cuffs of his black button-up, looking every bit as dangerous and unimpressed as he always did.

"It’s one night," Rune shot back. "Try to have fun, old man."

Merikh scowled. "I’m twenty-one, not ancient."

Rune only grinned. He always did love pushing Merikh’s buttons.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way Rune looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. How he lingered close, always making sure you were warm, always making sure you were safe.