My encounter with Griffin replayed in my head for hours like a cursed TikTok I couldn't scroll past.

The kiss.

The shock of it.

The heat of it.

That invisible, inevitable tether yanking us together as if the universe had opinions about my love life.

And then there was the part where he told me to stay away from him. Which, frankly, felt like mixed messaging, considering he'd been clinging to me like I was the last lifeboat off the Titanic.

Every time I blinked he was there. Too close. Too warm. Golden eyes dark and hungry, dangerous, and definitely not approved by any therapist, ever. I remembered the hitch in his breath. The way his hips pressed against mine as if touching were a matter of life and death.

Then my brain, because I'm ridiculous, skipped ahead to the story inside the box.

The Crow's Bride.

"I am letting go of this," I told the empty rec room as I vented my frustration on a glob of cobwebs hanging from an overhead beam. Once that was done, I wiped the grime from the walls. I scrubbed the shelves. I moved furniture and swept up dust that had fallen during the Obama years.

But...

Griffin, leaning in.

The heat of his body.

My fingers, threaded into the soft strands of his hair.

"Stop it!" I let the broom clatter to the floor and rubbed my eyes so hard little spots of color exploded behind my closed lids. "He's just a guy. This is a normal summer job. The Crow Bride is nothing more than some stupid campfire story."

The crows in the woods cawed.

Not that they ever weren't cawing.

Stupid, noisy, pesty birds.

Being alone wasn't working out so great.

"You know what?" I picked the broom up and carried it to the corner. "This is all probably a serious case of low blood sugar. I don't need a neurologist. I need a sandwich."

I also needed to stop talking to myself like a weirdo.

Leaving a sparkly clean rec room behind me, I grabbed my red zipper hoodie and headed outdoors and down the trail toward the pavilion. Along the way, I spotted Mateo coming from the direction of the cabins.

"Hey, Chula," he said with an adorable, lopsided grin. "We were starting to think the Lantern Man got you."

"That's another camp legend, right?" I held up my hands. "I really don't want to know about it."

"What, ghost stories got you up all night?" He slung an arm around my shoulders. "I could protect you in the dark."

"Uh-huh." I poked him in the ribs.

He squealed and jerked away from me.

"I just got caught up in what I was doing and lost track of time." My stomach punctuated my statement with a long, dramatic growl.

"Say no more. Let your boy Mateo make you the greatest plate of cheesy nachos known to humankind."

"I was thinking about a turkey sandwich and an apple," I told him.

The look he leveled on me suggested I'd just told him I planned on eating drywall for dinner. "Absolutely not. You need real food to fuel you so you can be on top of your game at the bonfire."

"The what now?"

"The bonfire," he said without pausing his long, confident strides. "There will be bonding. Camp unity. Good vibes and all that crap."

A few minutes ago, I'd been desperate not to be alone. And yet, the idea of sitting around a fire with the entire group of my coworkers made my soul want to exit my body through my left ear.

Couldn't there be some middle ground between solitary confinement and forced kumbaya?

As if in answer, my sick, twisted brain presented an image of Griffin and me sitting together beside a fire. Just the two of us. Our backs against a big log. Our legs stretched out in front of us. His hand on my knee. Moving up my leg. Tugging me toward—

"I'll start the food." Mateo shattered my fantasy as he yanked the squeaky pavilion door open and held it for me. "You should hydrate. You look kind of flushed."

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed and wandered off toward the kitchen.

As he cooked, Mateo chattered about music, and his sister's new baby, and an antique car that consumed carburetors, and summer hikes on the dunes. Basically, he shared every thought that popped into his mind. None of them appeared to be connected to what came before or after.

It was a weird and wonderful form of magic.

By the time I held a plate in my hands, dangerously overloaded with chips, cheese, meat, and veggies, the hard knot in my chest had loosened considerably and my thoughts felt like they might be under my control again.

For the first time all day, I felt kind of normal. Which made me a little nervous. But that actually was normal. For me. At least for who I'd become in recent months.

Maybe I could survive a big group bonding experience after all.

Huh. Maybe I'd been right about the blood sugar thing.

One by one, the others filtered into the pavilion, all smiles and small talk and easy laughter. No ominous shadows danced in the corners. None of the conversation dripped with doom. Even the forest seemed inclined toward the good kind of magic, allowing golden light to gild the world.

The entire situation was made easier by the simple fact that Griffin did not show up.

"Did Griffin find you?" Kayla asked from across the table like she'd plucked the subject straight from my thoughts.

"Why?" The word burst out of me with way too much force.

Her smile wobbled.

Kirat, beside me, froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "He's just a jerk." I reached for my water, found the glass empty, and let my hand drop.

Riley let out a dramatic sigh. "He's broody." She looked like a woodland sprite considering making a meal of the lonely forest traveler.

Kirat finished chewing. "He's hot."

"He. Is. Annoying." I pointed at each of them for emphasis. "And I don't want to talk about him anymore."

The three of them exchanged a look.

"What?" I demanded.

Kirat set her fork down and used her napkin to dab at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, nothing. You definitely do not sound like someone trying very hard to convince herself not to like somebody."

"There is nothing about him to like," I said.

"There's that body," Riley said.

"He's got great hair," Kayla added.

Riley continued, "I have literally never seen more beautiful eyes."

Kirat leaned forward on her elbows. "Considering the way he's built, can you imagine the size of—"

Thank the universe, Mateo chose that moment to burst into the room and announce that it was officially campfire time. Who knew I'd suddenly get so enthusiastic about a sing-a-long? Better than talking about Griffin. That was for damn sure.

We all trooped down the path that hugged the lake. I made a point of keeping my eyes away from the inky water, focusing instead on the fire pit glowing ahead. Several people lingered around the open space. Apparently, their names had gone in one ear and out the other because I had no idea who any of them were.

We claimed seats on logs and rocks arranged in a loose, chaotic circle. The fire cracked and sent sparks spiraling upward like tiny ambitious fairies racing toward the stars.

Mateo sat cross-legged with his guitar, coaxing warm notes from the strings. The sounds settled deep in my chest and curled up there.

Sol sat beside me after offering a quiet greeting. He tucked his knees up and fixed his gaze on the flames. His calm radiated, a delightful contagion. I breathed easier just being near him.

Across the circle, Jada started singing. Malik joined in. Others layered their voices until the sound wrapped around the group, splitting us off, protecting us from whatever lay beyond the fire's light.

I didn't sing. I leaned back and gazed up at the sky, stunned by how many stars were visible this far from civilization. Up there, only vast, merciful, quiet existed.

I felt him arrive.

A prickling across the nape of my neck. A pressure change in the air. Static before lightning.

The crow pendant at my throat warmed unnaturally.

When I lowered my gaze, it went straight to him.

Griffin stood at the edge of the shadows, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes locked on me. His totem caught the fire's glow and flashed gold for a heartbeat.

My breath snagged.

Okay, fine. Everyone was right. He was the most beautiful fucking man on the planet.

Also, an annoying jerk.

Those things weren't mutually exclusive.

The song ended, and Mateo shifted into a new melody, unfamiliar with an Irish lilt to it. He sang alone.

"Oh, the heather was pale on the Blackwater shore..."

Griffin dragged a hand through his hair and finally moved forward, settling near Malik.

I stared into the fire as Mateo sang about a woman who waited for letters that slowly stopped coming. She read them until the paper thinned, the words faded. Hope disintegrated in her hands.

My attention drifted toward the lake.

Then to Griffin.

He was looking out at the water, too.

But it was just a lake, not a sea.

And Griffin was just a man.

And spooky stories were meant to frighten children.

The fire crackled.

The crows shifted in the branches overhead.

None of it meant anything.

You're a liar, a voice whispered in my mind.

High time for me to get a grip.

"All right, listen up Fives, a Ten is speaking." Mateo set his guitar aside. "Campers arrive on Sunday, so it's time to learn the legends."

A mixture of groans and nervous laughter fluttered around the circle.

Griffin remained as still as if he'd been carved from wood like one of the totems.

Sol reached for a booklet identical to the one currently haunting my room. He opened it across his lap.

Mateo leaned in and stage-whispered. "I volun-told him to do this because he has a criminally sexy storyteller voice."

A deep blush crept up Sol's neck.

"True, though," Kirat chirped.

"Absolutely," Jada agreed, fanning herself.

Sol muttered something about bringing back the tradition of burning witches at the stake.

"Oh, come on. We're not that bad," Kirat crooned. "Tell the story. We'll behave."

With a long-suffering sigh, Sol relented. "Any requests?"

"Not the lake shadow one," Riley said quickly. "I don't enjoy feeling like I'm about to be dragged screaming into the water.

We all glanced at the unnaturally still, obsidian water glimmering beneath the moon.

"Not the fire one," Jada said.

"Definitely not Lantern Man," Alvin said.

Sol ran a finger down the table of contents. "That leaves..."

"The Crow Bride," I muttered.

The fire popped, sending sparks spiraling upward. Everyone turned to look at me.

Griffin turned to look at me.

His hot, electric gaze stitched into my bloodstream and made my heart slam against my breastbone. As if his presence flipped a switch inside me marked, ALIVE.

Sol cleared his throat. "Okay, then. Sure."

I stared at my sneakers, forcing my eyes to scan every scratch and scuff mark. Why had I said anything? I didn't want to hear this story. I didn't want gold-eyed kings invading my head.

Too late.

"She knew upon their first meeting that he was no ordinary man," Sol began in his fabulous, rumbling baritone.

I could feel Griffin watching me, but I refused to look away from my grubby shoes.

"The Crow King walked the razor's edge between life and death, cursed with a hunger not for food nor drink, but for what beat beneath the ribs of every mortal being."

The forest quieted as though even the tiny creatures scurrying among the tree branches had stopped to listen.

"Across nations, he was given many names, but in every story, the crows followed his steps. And in every story, his love for Tereza of the Red cloak was doomed."

I pulled the cuffs of my hoodie down over the heels of my hands before lacing my fingers together and squeezing. I tried not to look. I told myself not to. Swore to myself I wasn't going to.

But of course I did.

Griffin's golden gaze met mine, bright and feral as that of the Crow King himself. A muscle tightened in his jaw.

Sol was still reading, and I wasn't sure how much time I'd lost. "The boy she once knew had given his soul to the old gods. He saved his village, but Tereza was not from that village. When she died, her soul would not be his to command."

No one moved. Even the fire quieted to smoldering coals while Sol spoke to us of a tortured love that morphed into world-altering obsession.

"In the morning," he said at last, "the Crow King stood alone amidst the ruins. All of them would return to him in another life, but of Tereza, he had only the red cloak."

A log collapsed into the fire. Kirat jumped. Mateo flinched. My heart skipped a beat before stuttering back to life.

Sol closed the binder, letting silence stretch over the group.

Then Mateo strummed a soft minor chord, which somehow made everything worse.

"Well." His light, joking tone grated over my raw nerves. "That was romantic."

"I think you mean traumatizing," Jada said.

"Creepy," Riley mumbled.

"It's just a story," Sol said, though he didn't sound convinced.

Mateo switched to something upbeat, but the mood had turned strange and brittle, everyone on edge.

Across the circle, Griffin stood. "It's a bad idea to keep these stories alive."

The music faltered.

I took a step forward. When had I stood up? And why? "It's just a story."

"It's not," he replied. "You know it's not."

Everyone looked between us.

Heat flooded my face.

"I don't even know you," I snapped. The words tasted of lies, but I rushed on. "You don't get to stalk around this camp issuing creepy ultimatums about what people can say or who they can touch."

Griffin's brows slashed downward.

"Geez. That escalated quickly," Mateo muttered.

Griffin took a step toward me. An inferno ignited in my belly. Then he simply turned away and stalked into the forest.

Tears burned behind my eyes. No. Nope. Absolutely not. I was not crying over a man I'd known for less than forty-eight hours.

Mateo cleared his throat and strummed loudly. "Okay! Group bonding! Music solves everything!"

Kumbaya filled the clearing. Nervous laughter followed.

Kirat squeezed my hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I snapped, then winced. "Sorry. He just gets under my skin."

Before she could respond, a shadow drifted down between us.

A single black feather landed near my foot.

I picked it up and ran a finger along its soft, fine edge, and my thoughts took a new turn. I no longer wondered if something strange was happening at Camp Black Crow. I wondered how deeply I was already tangled in whatever was going on.