Page 40 of Emylia

Thrainn clamped a massive hand on Maalikai’s shoulder–firm, reverent, deliberate. It was a gesture of honour I’d only ever seen him give my father… and maybe Sebastian, on rare days when he truly earned it.

I watched, disbelief curling in my chest, as Uncle Thrainn walked beside him into the tall grass and toward Ophelia–as if he walked with the ghost of my father or somethingdevinecloaked in mortal skin.

Before Maalikai reached the path, he paused. Turned. His eyes swept over the sea of people, scanning, searching—for something. More interested than I’d care to admit, I watched him.

What was he looking for?

When his eyes found mine, I froze.

His gaze was more intimate than a physical caress. Vulnerability settled over me like a second skin. And then he smiled—brilliant, disarming, like it had been carved just for me. My heart tripped over itself. Blushing, I dropped my gaze.

When I finally dared another glance, he was already looking elsewhere.

Twice.

Twice now he’d caught my gaze and held it.

That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

Was I imagining this?

Was he really searching forme?

No. No way.

Not in this lifetime.

He had no reason to. But no matter how much I tried to rationalize it away, the butterflies in my chest refused to settle.

And Gods help me, some ridiculous part of mewantedhim to be searching for me.

“What was that all about?”

In an instant, I came crashing back to reality. Somehow, I’d managed to forget Sebastian still stood next to me. Evidently, he’d witnessed the whole embarrassing exchange.

At least I knew it wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

“That was nothing.”

Sebastian’s eyes locked on me–sharpened with something raw, something real–before flicking to Maalikai’s back as he walked away beside the chief.

He had seen it. That moment between us. It clung to him like smoke–shadowed in his posture, darkened in his eyes. Even the way he held himself had shifted. Straighter, stiffer, like he was bracing against something he didn’t want to feel.

“It didn’t look like nothing, that looked like a whole load of something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I started walking towards Ophelia, hoping that Sebastian would drop the whole thing.

“Well, from where I was standing, it looked like you two were ripping each other’s clothes off with your eyes, and I don’t call that nothing.”

I stopped abruptly, but wished I hadn’t; Sebastian slammed into me from behind, sending us both sprawling.

My knees hit the ground hard, and my first thought–ridiculously–was a prayer that the dress hadn’t ripped. It would shatter my mother’s heart. Though, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise her.

Straightening myself, I examined the damage. A small portion of the beautiful satin was smeared with dirt, but the material was still intact.

Barely.

“Shit, sorry, Em.” Sebastian muttered, reaching for my elbow.

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