Page 57 of Obsession & Oath

One where she’s not tied tohim.

Something hot and desperate claws at my throat. “Carmen?—”

But before I can say anything else, the music slows to a stop, and the illusion breaks.

The moment we were suspended in dissolves, and applause ripples through the ballroom. Other couples separate, and Carmen takes a step back, leaving a distance between us that wasn’t there before.

She blinks up at me as if coming back to herself. Then, too quickly, she turns.

I should stop her.

I should grab her hand, pull her back into my arms, and tell her that if she’s looking for another life, she doesn’t have to do it alone.

ThatI’m right here.

But I don’t.

For so long, Carmen has operated under the scrutiny of others. If she wants something now,something from me, a voice within me begs, it’s not for an audience to spectate. And there are far too many people watching me now.

No. This is far too precious for that.

But I do want her all to myself.

Chapter16

Carmen

Delirium is a funny thing.

Not that I’m delirious now—but there’s something about tonight that makes my thoughts feel loose, unhinged from where they usually sit.

I let the pins in my hair slip through my fingers, each one hitting the vanity with a tiny, metallic clink.

My dress pools around my legs as I sink onto the edge of the bed, toes pressing into the thick, antique rug. I need a minute before tackling the intricacies of untying the corset. It had taken an embarrassing amount of time to get it on in the first place.

The fire has burned low, throwing lazy golden light across the room, and yet I feel…restless. Like I’m falling and falling though my feet are firmly on the floor.

It’s not exhaustion keeping me here, staring into the flames. It’s not even confusion.

I knowexactlywhat happened tonight.

Dante Grasso held me in his arms and listened to me like I was saying something worth hearing. Like my wants, my desires—things I’ve spent my entire life pushing down—actually mattered.

Like he has done ever since he started visiting me in the dungeons.

And I let him.

I wanted him to.

It’s dangerous to want like that.

Because if I let that desire bloom, if I let it root itself too deeply in my chest, then what?

A sharp knock at the door cuts through my spiraling thoughts.

My breath catches, fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. I already know who it is.

I stand slowly as if something might shatter if I move too fast. The distance between the bed and the door is only a few steps, but it feels like miles.

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