A nightclub that doubles as a magical safehouse. Declan DJs. Vincent flirts. Alek does security. Sloane handles the shady VIP floor.

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Most Likely to Start a Fight: Sloane
Most Likely to End It: Alek
Most Likely to Get Away With It: Vincent
Most Likely to Regret Everything Later: Declan

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Waking up in a place that doesn’t know your name yet…
The sheet too soft.
The blankets too heavy.
The air thick with unfamiliar silence.
Even the door sticks like it’s unsure of me.

My body’s hungry. My magic’s quiet.
This isn’t home—not yet.

from Veilborne, Ch. 2

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Hot damn. 🥵

The “we’d kill for each other but also roast each other daily” energy.

Chaos + care. Loyalty with teeth.
Pack, court, battalion—whatever.
It’s love, loud and lethal.

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“Respect isn’t earned by title or threat,” Vincent said, voice like silk over a dagger. “It’s inspired… or extracted. I do respect your position—just as I respect decay, erosion, and every other force that ensures nothing old survives forever.”

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