My chest heaves, my heart hammers. His eyes crash into mine and I allow myself to take him in, admire this boy that I have come to know.
He’s devastating. Everything about him is stunning and sharp and stealing my breath away. But it’s the way he’s looking at me that suddenly makes swallowing seem like a struggle, breathing seem like a chore. I’ve never been looked at like it’s a privilege to be in my presence, an honor to hold my gaze, a gift to get a glimpse of me. Not until I met him.
His mask slips, splinters, shatters, leaving only a boy beholding a girl like she is worthy of his wanting.
And what terrifies me even more is that I think I might be looking at him the same way, looking at him with that same longing. Try as I might to fight it, I can’t help but long for this boy who has saved my life more times than I care to admit. This boy who is equally calculating and charming, equally cool and caring. The one who’s tended to my wounds, learned about my past, been my distraction when I needed it most.
The one who understands me.
And then my heart halts, pulse plummets.
But he doesn’t, does he?
He doesn’t even know who I truly am. What I truly am. And if he did, he would kill me. Because that is what the Enforcer would do. Because that is what the king’s son would do. Because that is what he has been created to do.
And for that reason, I push him away. Because if I don’t, I’ll pull him closer. And if I pull him closer, it will only end in a dagger being plunged through my heart. The heart that beats a little too fast when he is around, breaks a little too easily, and aches a little too much for him.
I stare back at him, not knowing what to say or do or—
I’m suddenly swept from his arms and into another's before I have the chance to answer.
Perfect timing.
“You look beautiful,” Jax spits out, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s what I was going to say earlier.” He puffs out his chest slightly, proud of himself for finally voicing the compliment.
“Thank you, Jax,” I say, smiling at him. When the song comes to an end, I quickly step off the dancefloor. I’m eager to get away from the press of bodies as I snatch a drink off a servant’s tray and head for the edge of the ballroom. Except that I can’t seem to escape crowd. Everywhere I look is occupied by groups of gossiping guests or silent servants.
My eyes sweep over the packed ballroom, landing on the large widows and the fresh air that awaits just outside of them. I itch for a moment to myself, a moment free from the crowded and closed-in room.
I sip at my wine, watching the whirling guests before I set the glass on the table and head for the hallway beyond the ballroom. I’m forced to slide between bodies, hating the cramped feeling.
I suck in a deep breath as I head towards the giant, grand doors leading to the courtyard beyond. The sound of my heels clicking against the floor fills the silence as I approach the daunting doors.
My hand is outstretched, itching to throw open the exit when a Flash speeds between me and my salvation.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Paedyn
The Imperial’s smile is cold as he peers down at me, white uniform crisp and smelling of starch.
“I can’t let you do that, little lady.” His belittling tone has me biting back the retort rising to my lips.
I am not in the mood.
“I just need a few minutes outside for a bit of fresh air.” If I were in Loot right now, I wouldn’t even bother being polite.
“Like I said, I can’t let you do that.” He smirks and a few of the Imperials lining the hallway chuckle with him, apparently a part of whatever hilarious joke I’m missing. “You don’t have permission to be outside of the castle, little lady.”
I clench my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to dare him to call me little lady one more time and see what happens. “All I’m asking for is a moment outside.”
“Really? And what are you willing to do to get it?” He leans in, and the stench of alcohol on his breath is evident as he says, “What’s in it for me?”
Then he slings an arm around my waist, tugging me towards him.
Wrong move.
My fingers wrap around the handle of my dagger, feeling the cold steel I’m about to—
“Careful, she’ll press that blade to your throat. I would know.”
I still, turning my head slightly to see Kai standing several feet away, hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Now let her go and open the door.” His voice is like the steel of my dagger, cold and sharp.
The Imperial only sputters. “But, sir, we have orders that the contestants are not to leave the—”
“And now you have new orders. So I suggest you open the damn door.”
Kai’s blank expression hasn’t changed despite his deadly tone. He’s even leaning against the wall now, his hands still stuffed into his pockets. The perfect picture of power. “Oh,” he adds, “and if you want to keep your job, your hand, and your head, I suggest you release the little lady.”
I almost crack a smile at that. The Imperial doesn’t waste a second before practically jumping away from me. He knows just as well as I do that Kai’s threats are never empty.
The Imperial strides swiftly past Kai, but not before the prince’s hand finds into his shirt and slams him against the wall. “I lied,” Kai mutters close to the man’s face. “You’ll be lucky if I let you keep your head, let alone your hand for laying a finger on her.”
The doors swing open, tearing my eyes away from the scene I’m not sure I want to witness. Humid, sticky air hits me the moment I begin descending the steps into the courtyard beyond. The sky is dark and thick with heavy clouds that rumble with the promise of rain.
I take a deep breath, relishing the fresh air and open space around me. Something wet splatters on my cheek, and I turn my face towards the cloudy sky that is now beginning to drizzle down on me. I spread out my arms and tilt my head up, loving the feel of rain pelting my skin.
Then the drizzle turns into a downpour. Rain is falling rapidly while I’m smiling stupidly. My head feels clearer than it has in days as cool water coats my skin, my dress, my hair. I spin in place, the skirts of my gown swishing around my ankles, feeling like an idiot and absolutely loving it.
I slip the shoes from my aching feet and pad through puddles like I did as a little girl, reminding me of a time when I was younger and yearning for the love of a father who was no longer with me. When I was terrified and terribly traumatized. The crowded streets of Loot pressed in on me constantly, making me feel caged and claustrophobic.
But then I would climb up to the roofs of old shops and buildings with only the stars for company. I felt freer in the open air, impossibly more peaceful. I did that for months, years, before my fear fell away and Loot became more of a home and less of a horror.
Laughter bubbles out of me. Hysterical. I am completely hysterical.
Plagues, how much wine did I have?