Chapter 183 | A Very Profitable Problem

I woke up at 7:45 with Aurora’s leg thrown across my stomach and my phone buzzing like an angry bee.

Three messages from Belle:

You better be alive. Naomi’s asking about you. Training at noon btw.

One from Naomi:

Hope you’re having fun! Don’t forget about us :)

I texted Belle back first.

Alive. Tell Naomi I’ll call her later.

Then Naomi:

Having a good time. Miss you.

Aurora stirred beside me, her orange hair spread across the pillow like spilled paint. She made this soft sound against my chest before her eyes opened, green and gorgeous and still sleepy.

"Morning."

"Morning." She kissed my jaw, then my mouth, tasting like sleep and something sweet. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight."

She groaned into my neck. "We need to meet Addison at eight thirty."

"You gonna shower?"

"Probably should." She sat up, the sheet falling away to reveal her naked body in the morning light. No shame, no hesitation. Just Aurora existing in her skin like it was the most natural thing in the world. She stood and stretched, giving me an eyeful before smirking. "Enjoying the view?"

"Immensely."

"Good." She walked toward the bathroom with that same confident sway. "Don’t stare at Addison’s ass during breakfast or I’ll scramble your senses until you can’t tell up from down."

The bathroom door closed. Water ran moments later.

I got dressed in the new clothes Aurora bought yesterday. Dark jeans that actually fit, a black V-neck that showed off the shoulders and chest I’d earned through eighteen hundred points and three weeks of hell. The leather jacket sat on the chair, but I left it. Too much for breakfast.

I studied my reflection and wondered if the old Jace Monroe would recognize what stared back. The soft edges were gone, carved away by training and the System’s efficiency. My jaw looked sharp now, no longer buried under padding. The V-neck showed off shoulders that finally looked capable of carrying weight. Arms that had real definition instead of just mass. Even my stomach showed signs of the work I’d put in, though stubborn fat still blurred the lines.

Ten pounds lighter and infinitely more dangerous.

Aurora’s shower still ran. I walked out into the kitchen area and stopped short when I found Addison already waiting there.

She wore last night’s black dress with her purple-highlighted hair pulled into a messy bun. Her makeup was mostly gone except for smudged eyeliner that somehow made her look hotter. She had a lollipop stuck in her mouth, this one grape instead of cherry, and her violet eyes tracked me with predatory focus.

"Morning."

She pulled the lollipop out with a wet pop. "Morning."

Something in her voice sounded off. Sharper than usual. Like she was pissed about something but trying to pretend otherwise.

I grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge. "How was the club?"

"Shit." She bit the lollipop so hard it cracked. Fragments of purple candy broke between her teeth. "Just a bunch of drunk academy seniors bragging about the one B-rank gate they cleared. Morons. All of them. Waste of my fucking night."

"Okay." I leaned against the counter, bottle in hand. "What are you hungry for?"

She stared at me like I’d just spoken Mandarin. "What?"

"Breakfast. Food. The thing Aurora mentioned at eight thirty." I took a sip of water. "You got preferences?"

Her jaw worked like she wanted to say something biting but couldn’t find the angle. Finally she shrugged. "Pancakes. Or waffles. Fuck, I don’t know. Whatever’s closest."

"There’s a place Aurora mentioned near the boardwalk. Supposed to be good."

"Fine." She crossed her arms under her chest, which did interesting things to her figure that I actively tried not to notice. "You always this agreeable in the morning?"

"Only when I don’t want to get stabbed."

Her mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Smart."

The shower shut off in the bedroom. Aurora would be out in five minutes max. I had maybe sixty seconds of alone time with Addison before the dynamic shifted completely.

Addison tilted her head, studying me with those violet eyes. "You should dye your hair black."

That caught me completely off guard. "What?"

"Your hair." She gestured vaguely at my head. "It’s brown. It’s fine. But black would look better. Especially with your whole thing happening." She waved at my general existence.

My old life flashed through my brain. Black hair slicked back with too much product. Leather jacket. Motorcycle I couldn’t afford. The version of me that thought he was God’s gift to women because he had abs and knew how to talk.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. It’d bring out the gold in your eyes." She said it casually, like she was commenting on the weather instead of paying me a compliment wrapped in criticism.

In my previous body, before I ended up here, I’d had black hair. Natural black that I kept short and never really thought about. Brown felt wrong every time I looked in the mirror. Like wearing someone else’s face.

"I had black hair before."

"Before what?"

Before I woke up in a fat kid’s body with a death timer and a perverted system that requires me to drink supernatural milk to survive.

"Before I came here." Close enough to the truth without explaining dimensional soul theft. "Might dye it back."

She nodded once like I’d passed some test only she knew about. "Good. Now enough stalling." The lollipop came up, pointed at me like a loaded gun. "Show me this Euphoric Feedback thing or whatever the fuck Aurora keeps talking about."

I blinked. "Right now?"

"You got somewhere better to be?" She pushed off the counter. Three steps closed the distance between us until I could smell her perfume—something dark and spicy with smoke and vanilla underneath. "Aurora said you can make people feel things through touch. I want to know if she’s lying or if you’re actually that good."

This girl was going to be a problem.

A very profitable problem, but still a problem.