Whispered Temptations

Chapter Four

「 ✦ Halsey's POV ✦ 」

Halo kept one arm looped through mine and the other through Hazel's as she tugged us farther into the house, weaving through swaying bodies and shouted conversations like she'd been born for rooms like this.

Maybe she had.

People greeted her from every direction. Girls with glossy lips and glittering collarbones called her name, leaning in for air kisses and quick hugs. Boys twice my size lifted their cups in greeting, their eyes following her like sunflowers tracking light. Halo answered all of it with easy laughter and practiced affection, but she never let go of either me or Hazel.

That did something to my chest.

It would have been easy for her to get swallowed by the crowd and slip back into her world without us. Instead, she moved like she was making a point.

These are my sisters.

These are my people.

Deal with it.

Hazel, naturally, thrived under the attention. She smiled, waved, and tossed off quick little comments that made people laugh. I watched her transform in these spaces - not into someone else, but into the loudest, brightest version of herself.

I had always been the quieter one.

Hazel was wildfire. Halo was moonlight. I was the shadow tucked just outside the frame, hoping nobody noticed I didn't shine the same way.

And yet tonight, with both of them flanking me, I didn't feel hidden.

I felt... escorted.

Presented.

Protected.

"Stop overthinking," Halo said without looking at me.

I blinked. "I wasn't."

She snorted.

"You do this thing where your mouth goes all serious and your eyebrows pull together like you're writing a five-page paper in your head."

Hazel leaned around her to look at me.

"Oh my God, she does."

"I hate both of you."

"No, you don't," Hazel sang.

"No," Halo agreed, squeezing my arm. "She really doesn't."

We passed through the living room into a sprawling open kitchen where the lights were brighter and the music dulled just enough that conversation became possible again. Red cups littered the countertops. A girl in a sequined silver top sat cross-legged on the island while two boys argued over music near the speaker. Somebody had spilled something sticky near the sink, and a blond guy in a backwards hat was using a dish towel to mop at it with the solemn concentration of a surgeon.

Hazel looked delighted by all of it.

"This is my natural habitat," she announced.

"This," I said, looking around at the alcohol, sweat, and chaos, "is a bacterial colony."

Halo barked out a laugh.

Before either of them could respond, the front of the house erupted.

A roar rolled through the rooms, followed by whistles, cheers, and the kind of male shouting that always sounded half celebratory and half like violence might break out if someone sneezed wrong.

Hazel straightened instantly.

Halo smiled before I even saw why.

Then a voice boomed from the foyer, deep and bright and impossible to miss.

"THE PARTY HAS NOW OFFICIALLY ARRIVED, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

The house answered with fresh cheers.

Hazel's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ."

I turned with everyone else.

A group of men moved through the doorway in a wave of broad shoulders, expensive cologne, and loud confidence. They were laughing, shoving at one another, carrying cases of beer as if this were some heroic contribution to society.

At the center of them all was a towering blond man built like he had been carved from expensive Scandinavian lumber.

He was enormous. Easily six-foot-three, maybe taller, with a bright grin and shoulders so broad they looked unfair to the rest of the male population. A white T-shirt stretched across a chest that belonged in a professional sports ad, and his light hair gleamed beneath the overhead lights like he'd made a private deal with the sun.

He spotted Halo.

Every other detail in the room seemed to soften around the edges.

His face changed in an instant, the booming showmanship melting into something warm and unguarded.

Halo lit up exactly the same way.

Without thinking, I smiled.

"Oh," I murmured.

Hazel glanced at me. "Disgusting, right?"

"Painfully."

Halo slipped free of us with a squeal that was much less dignified than her usual composure, though she would deny that later under torture. She crossed the kitchen in a rush of pink leather and black hair and threw herself at the blond giant without hesitation.

He caught her effortlessly.

One huge hand splayed across the small of her back while the other settled beneath her thighs for a brief second, lifting her into him as if she weighed nothing at all. She laughed, arms wrapping around his neck, and bent to kiss his chin before he leaned down and kissed her properly.

Not obscene.

Not careless.

Just familiar enough to make it obvious they did this often.

Watched from the outside, it should have been embarrassing.

Instead it felt oddly intimate, like witnessing the physical shape of devotion.

Hazel made a dramatic choking noise beside me.

"I just lost ten years off my life."

"You're fifteen," I reminded her.

"Exactly."

The blond man finally let Halo slide back to the floor, though his hand remained low on her back as if he had no intention of letting her get farther than an inch away again.

Then Halo turned, beaming.

"Guys," she called over the music, waving us forward. "Get over here."

Hazel went first, all confidence and wicked curiosity, while I followed more slowly.

Up close, the man was even larger.

And somehow more handsome.

His features were sharply cut but open, made softer by the sheer warmth pouring off him. His eyes - bright blue and very, very attentive - moved from Halo to Hazel to me with immediate interest.

"Halsey. Hazel." Halo slid back into place against his side like she belonged there, and judging by the way his hand tightened at her waist, she did. "This is Niko."

Niko's grin widened.

"So these are the famous sisters." His voice held the faintest trace of an accent, something softened by years in America but not erased entirely. "Finally."

He looked at Hazel first because everyone did. She was impossible not to notice.

Hazel tipped her chin up with a playful little smile. "The favorite sister, obviously."

Halo elbowed her.

Then Niko looked at me.

Not through me.

At me.

And whatever he saw there made his expression shift from amused to warmly earnest.

He set the beer down on the counter and held out one big hand.

"It's good to finally meet you, Halsey."

His voice was gentler now.

I stared for half a second too long before placing my hand in his.

His palm dwarfed mine completely.

"Good to meet you too."

He gave my fingers the slightest squeeze, then tilted his head as if studying me.

"Halo talks about you both like she hung the moon and stars herself."

Halo groaned. "Niko."

"What?" He didn't even glance at her. "You do."

Hazel's face lit up in delight. "Oh, I adore you."

"I know," he said gravely.

That made Hazel laugh.

Something in me unclenched.

Niko was huge, loud, absurdly good-looking, and clearly capable of flattening a man into the earth if motivated, but there was no arrogance in him. No entitled slickness. No oily charm.

Only presence.

And an obvious, almost reverent love for my sister.

That alone bought him more goodwill than he could possibly understand.

Niko jerked his chin toward Hazel. "And this one must be trouble."

"This one," Hazel said, placing a hand to her chest, "is a delight."

"This one," Halo corrected, "is a minor, and if any of your i***t friends so much as breathe too hard in her direction, I will ruin your entire football season."

Niko pressed his lips together, visibly trying not to laugh.

He failed.

"I already warned them in the car."

My eyebrows rose. "You preemptively threatened your friends for Hazel?"

"I value my life," he said simply.

Hazel looked smug enough to float.

Halo turned to me then, softer. "And before you ask, yes, I warned him about you too."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means," she said, adjusting the strap of my halter top with absent, sisterly precision, "that anyone who makes you uncomfortable answers to me first and Dad second."

"And me third," Hazel added.

"Niko fourth," Halo finished.

Niko nodded solemnly. "Violently."

That startled a laugh out of me.

All three of them looked at me at once, their faces brightening in a way that made me want to roll my eyes and hug them at the same time.

"Don't," I warned.

Hazel grinned. "She knows us too well."

A loud chorus of male voices swelled from the other room, followed by a bark of laughter from one of Niko's friends.

Niko glanced toward the noise and sighed through his nose like a man briefly revisiting every poor decision that had led him here.

"I should probably introduce you before they start behaving like escaped zoo animals."

Hazel perked up immediately.

Halo groaned. "That's exactly what they'll do."

"Too late." Niko slid his hand from Halo's waist to tangle their fingers together. "They already know your sisters are here."

I stiffened before I could stop myself.

Halo noticed.

So did Niko.

His gaze landed on me again, direct and steady.

"They know," he said calmly, "that Halo's sisters are off-limits."

The words shouldn't have mattered.

And yet they did.

Because he said them like a promise.

Because there was no teasing in it.

Because for one irrational second, some raw, bruised part of me expected those words to fail.

I nodded once.

Niko's expression didn't change, but something approving flickered in his eyes, as if he understood the weight of what he had just offered and why I needed it offered plainly.

"Come on," he said, lifting the beer again. "Meet the idiots."

He led us out of the kitchen and into the adjoining living room where the air was heavier, the music louder, and the crowd denser. Several men were gathered near the sectional and beer pong table, all broad-shouldered and athletic in that unmistakable way that made it clear they belonged either to a football team or a Calvin Klein campaign.

A few girls hovered nearby, laughing too loudly at things that did not seem funny.

When Niko entered, the group shifted automatically, gravity bending toward him.

And then, almost as one, they looked at us.

Hazel squared her shoulders like she was stepping onto a runway.

Halo squeezed Niko's hand once.

I resisted the urge to tug at my top again.

"Children," Niko announced, voice booming over the music. "Behave yourselves."

One of the men - tall, dark-haired, with the kind of grin that suggested expensive schools and very bad ideas - barked out a laugh.

"No promises," he said.

"Niko," another groaned, "you bring your girl's sisters here and then expect us to act civilized?"

Halo crossed her arms. "Yes."

"Terrifying," a third muttered.

Hazel leaned toward me. "I love them already."

"You love chaos."

"Yes."

Niko ignored the commentary and began pointing people out.

"Carter. Dawson. Ashton."

Each one nodded or offered a greeting in turn.

Carter, who stood nearest the couch, had that old-money East Coast kind of beauty - polished, dark blond, and watchful, with blue eyes that missed absolutely nothing. Dawson was leaner, quieter, silver-eyed and serious in a way that made him seem older than the rest. Ashton, the dark-haired one with the dangerous grin, looked like he had been personally handcrafted to disappoint rich parents.

Hazel noticed all of this in approximately three seconds.

Her lashes fluttered.

I almost stepped on her foot.

She elbowed me without looking.

Halo introduced us properly, with the kind of tone older sisters use when they are already braced for embarrassment.

"This is Halsey, and this menace is Hazel."

"As if we needed help figuring out which was which," Ashton said, smiling.

Hazel smiled back with terrifying sweetness. "And yet here you are trying."

Dawson snorted into his drink.

Carter looked openly entertained.

I liked them immediately for not talking to me like I was scenery.

For not looking surprised that I existed.

For not treating Halo and Hazel as the only women in the room worth noticing.

Ashton lifted his cup toward me. "Nice to meet you, Halsey."

"Nice to meet you too."

He held my gaze just long enough for me to understand two things at once:

One, he was shameless by nature.

Two, whatever he might have said next died behind his teeth because Niko looked at him.

Not a glare.

Not even anger.

Just one cool, very direct look.

Ashton lifted both hands. "I said nice to meet you."

Hazel made a strangled sound trying not to laugh.

Carter rubbed a hand over his mouth, failing equally badly.

And before anyone could say another word, before the moment could fully settle, before I could understand why the energy in the room had shifted all at once -

the front door opened again.

The reaction was immediate.

Not loud this time.

Worse.

Quieter.

Like a current had moved invisibly through the house.

Conversations didn't stop, exactly, but they changed pitch. Heads turned. A few girls near the hallway visibly straightened. Even Niko's friends looked up with the kind of recognition reserved for someone significant enough to tilt a room without raising his voice.

Hazel went still beside me.

Her fingers closed hard around my forearm.

"Zizi," she whispered, staring past me.

The fine hairs along the back of my neck rose.

"What?" I asked softly.

Hazel didn't answer.

Her nails dug into my skin.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

And something in her tone - something between shock and reverence - made me turn.