Isla

  Finn glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “Just trust me on this.”

  I wanted to argue, but the exhaustion in his voice made me bite back the retort. Instead, I followed him to the door, my unease growing with every second that passed.

  The door swung open, and I immediately regretted everything.

  My stomach dropped.

  “You,” I said, my tone sharp.

  The man standing in the doorway—Jonas—arched an eyebrow, his dark eyes flicking toward Finn before settling on me. “You didn’t mention she was rude.”

  Before I could fire back, Finn stepped between us, raising a hand like he was keeping two bickering children apart. “Jonas, now’s not the time. Can we come in?”

  Jonas’ smirk lingered as he leaned casually against the doorframe, making no effort to move. “Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  With an exaggerated sweep of his arm, he gestured us inside.

  I hesitated before stepping over the threshold, my eyes darting around the cluttered space. It was exactly the kind of place I’d expect from someone as sketchy as Jonas.

  Shelves crammed with books and strange trinkets lined the walls. Half-empty coffee mugs littered every surface. A faint hum of magic thrummed beneath the air, making my skin crawl.

  I turned a slow circle, taking it all in before leveling a glare at Finn. “This is the safe house?”

  Finn tried—tried—to sound convincing. “It’s better than it looks.”

  “It’s not,” Jonas chimed in from the doorway, holding a bag of chips he definitely hadn’t been holding a second ago. “But hey, what do I know? I’m just the guy who built the wards keeping you alive.” He crunched a chip loudly for emphasis.

  I turned back to Finn, ignoring Jonas entirely. “No.”

  Jonas raised an eyebrow. “No what?”

  “No,” I repeated firmly, pointing at him. “Whatever you’re about to say, just no.”

  Jonas’ grin widened like I had personally given him a gift. “I like her,” he said to Finn. “She’s feisty.”

  Finn sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Jonas, just…don’t.”

  Jonas ignored him, his eyes flicking back to me with clear delight. “You know, I’ve never seen him like this before,” he mused, nodding toward Finn. “All starry-eyed and soft. It’s almost like—what’s the word? Oh, yeah, f—”

  Finn knocked the bag of chips out of Jonas’ hand before he could finish his sentence. The chips scattered across the floor, a sad, crinkling sound filling the silence.

  Jonas sniffed. “Well, that was very rude, Finn.” Instead of cleaning them up, he sauntered into the kitchen. A second later, he returned with a fresh bag of popcorn—somehow hot and fresh—before plopping into a dingy armchair.

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  I stared. “Do you just…have popcorn ready at all times?”

  Jonas shoved a handful in his mouth. “Obviously.”

  I turned to Finn, seeking confirmation that this was real life, but he was rubbing his temples like he regretted every choice that had led to this moment.

  I watched as his jaw tightened, his eyes locked on Jonas with a warning I couldn’t quite decipher. I didn’t know what Finn had stopped him from saying, but I knew it had to be important.

  Could it be the same word I’d been considering? Fated? And if so, was Finn’s reaction an indication that he was against it? A strange, unexpected twist of emotion settled in my stomach at the thought. I ignored it.

  Jonas, oblivious—or more likely, not caring—continued munching on his popcorn. Then, with the casual air of someone discussing the weather, he spoke around a mouthful of kernels. “Makes sense, though. Finn’s been collecting Medusa merch for years. T-shirts, keychains, even that weird bobblehead—”

  “Jonas.” Finn’s voice dropped into a literal growl. His Fenrir parentage really showing through in that moment.

  Jonas’ mouth twitched in amusement. “What?” He and Finn had another silent exchange before he finally sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine.”

  I shook my head, turning away from both of them. “This is a nightmare.”

  Jonas stood again, walking closer, a conspiratorial grin forming. “Welcome to the safe house, snake girl.”

  I bristled.

  “So, can I touch—” He started to reach out, presumably toward one of my snakes.

  Vipes quickly shut that down with a sharp snap in his direction.

  Jonas immediately yanked his hands back. “Right, okay, no touching the nope ropes,” he said with a decisive nod, like it had been his idea all along.

  Finn sighed. “Jonas, can you take a break from being so…Jonas for a moment and help us come up with a plan?”

  Jonas lounged back in a chair, tossing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth. “Alright, alright. What’s the problem?”

  Finn crossed his arms. “Poseidon’s people found us this morning. They were knocking on Isla’s door.”

  Jonas was unable to hide his surprise before he covered it with a more neutral expression and whistled low. “Damn. That’s bold. They’re usually a little more cloak-and-dagger about things.”

  Finn nodded grimly. “They’re getting desperate.”

  Jonas leaned forward slightly, his expression finally shifting into something more serious. “And let me guess—you don’t know how they found you?”

  Finn shook his head.

  I folded my arms, frustration curling through me. “They shouldn’t have been able to. I have protections in place.”

  Jonas rubbed his jaw, considering. “Well, either someone snitched, or their tracking magic is stronger than we thought.”

  I swallowed hard, the weight of it pressing into my chest. If they could find me this easily, I wasn’t safe anywhere.

  Finn, sensing my unease, spoke up. “That’s why we’re here. We need to figure out our next move.”

  Jonas exhaled, shaking his head. Then, with absolutely no warning, he grinned and threw his arms wide.

  “Ah, I see why you came to your best friend for this.”

  I blinked.

  Wait.

  I turned to Finn so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

  “Best friend?” I repeated, incredulous.

  Finn closed his eyes briefly, like he was debating walking into traffic.

  Jonas, still grinning, slapped a hand over his chest dramatically. “Of course! Finn and I go way back. Thick as thieves. Practically brothers. Bonded by the deep, unwavering trust that only comes from years of—”

  “Jonas,” Finn cut in flatly.

  Jonas smirked. “What? You don’t want her to know about our beautiful, enduring friendship?”

  I could not process this.

  The man I had met at the café—sketchy, smug, possibly a criminal—was Finn’s best friend?

  Finn, who was annoyingly noble, who had that brooding I carry the weight of fate on my shoulders energy?

  I stared at Finn. “You have this guy as your best friend?”

  Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s complicated.”

  Jonas looked deeply offended. “It is not. He loves me.”

  Finn turned toward Jonas. “I tolerate you.”

  “See?” Jonas turned back to me. “Love.”

  I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “I am going to have an aneurysm.”

  Jonas leaned forward, grinning. “Would you like some popcorn?”

  Finn, to his credit, looked equally done with everything. “Can we get back to the plan now?”

  Jonas clapped his hands together. “Yes! Let’s strategize how to keep your very rude girlfriend alive.”

  I groaned.

  Jonas grinned wider.

  Finn muttered, “This was a mistake.”

  Jonas threw popcorn at him.

  I pressed my fingers to my temples. I’m in grave danger and Jonas is our best bet?