Page 296 of The Wishing Game

A visceral feeling stabs at my chest. My pulse is through the roof, and I find it hard to breathe.

Our gazes are affixed to one another, his purple pupils seemingly glowing in the dimly lit hallway.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his lips stretch into a smile.

To my surprise, I find that mine do the same, returning the smile with a shy one of my own.

He puts one step in front of the other. The proximity becomes maddening, my body humming with pleasure as he stops in front of us. He offers me his arm, and I take it.

A gasp flies past my lips at the contact. The heat from his body envelops mine, making the mark above my chest pulsate with a foreign need—one that is as confusing as it is all-encompassing.

I glance up at him to find him staring at me intently, his lips half-parted.

I lick my own in response.

"You look beautiful tonight, Luce." He clears his throat, as if he's forgotten how to speak.

"You look quite dashing yourself," I manage, fighting my way against acute breathlessness.

The dress is suddenly too restrictive. Too hot. Too...

God, I cannot take my eyes off him. My blood pounds furiously in my veins. Without even realizing, I get closer to him, rubbing my shoulder against his arm—all in an effort to absorb more of his heat...of his scent.

"Ze," I whisper, wetting my lips.

His pupils grow larger.

I don't know what I meant to say—perhaps ask him to whisk me away to some place and relieve me of this ache that seems to build inside of me, a tension that's ready to snap unless I find some relief. And for some reason, I knowonlyhe can give me that relief.

Leaning into me, he brushes his lips against my ear.

"You are staring," he murmurs.

"W-what?" I stammer, my throat dry.

"Do not stop. I like it."

SIXTY-ONE

"Idon't remember anyone inviting you tonight, Ze," Thea quips, breaking the spell.

"I invited myself." Ze shrugs, not taking his eyes off me.

"You—" She takes a deep breath as Cer grabs her hand, a warning in his gaze. "The least you could do is acknowledge Wyn. She is the one we're celebrating tonight, after all."

Ze takes one look at Wyn and nods before going back to ignoring them.

"I hate him," Thea grumbles under her breath, followed by a stern reproach from Cer.

My body trembles with relief as the fog that's taken over my mind slowly dissipates. Relief fills me to the brim. Good Lord, what was that insanity? What the hell had come over me? I'm not sure what would have happened if Thea hadn't spoken at that moment. It's almost as if my body had a mind of its own, and only one purpose—him.

I remain silent as we continue on to the ballroom.

The doors open just as we arrive, the blinding lights from the chandeliers dazzling me. The music is loud and boisterous, as is the chatter that engulfs the room. There are refreshments and small bites by the side of the room, available for everyone to help themselves. Everyone is preoccupied with socializing, and so far no one is dancing—but I assume that may be because Wyn has yet to arrive.

In line with the rest of the house, the ballroom is a combination of marble and gold, with baroque-like wall decorations. There are marble columns adorned with golden leaves at every entrance, as well as friezes depicting battle scenes on each side of the room, high up where the wall meets the ceiling.

As we stop at the entrance, Maros and Rhea come forward to greet us. As her father, Maros takes Wyn's arm, leading her into the ballroom as the butler announces their arrival.

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