Page 109 of The Immortal's One
If I can’t ask about his eyes, there’s another question burning on my tongue, desperate to be spoken.
Disbelief, fear, and confusion swirl as I choke out the heart-stuttering words, “Am I her?”
His gaze sharpens, but his voice remains calm—too calm. “What do you mean?”
Frustration bubbles up inside me, overshadowing my other emotions. For now. “Don’t play dumb, Des. You know exactly what I mean.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb.” His eyes sweep over me for the first time. His gaze trails down my gown and back up. “You look nice.”
“Don’t change the subject.” My voice cracks. I hate how vulnerable I sound, but I can’t stop now.
Des blinks slowly, then runs a hand through his hair, averting his eyes. “You are not myOne, Darcie.”
The vice-like grip around my lungs releases. At the same time, my heart constricts.
I ignore both sensations. “Do you promise?”
A shadow falls over his features. “I promise we are not meant to be together.”
A strange, hollow feeling settles in my stomach.
Des clears his throat and takes a step back. “Now, let’s join the celebrations. We have a plan to execute.”
I should deny his request. I should insist that he and I continue our conversation until I’m satisfied with his explanations.
As it is, my confusion has only grown.
If I’m not hisOne, why do I react to his touch so viscerally? And why have his eyes starred in my dreams for years?
I want answers. Badly.
But Des’s shuttered expression and the boisterous music billowing up from the ballroom below remind me of my commitments.
I’ve been waiting for the chance to do something, anything, to help me return to Maine. As much as the need for answers gnaws at me, it can wait until after the ball. Until after Adir and I do what needs to be done.
I press my lips together and move forward to loop my arm through Des’s, resolved to keep my composure, bracing myself for the night ahead.
The stoic Immortal offers a forced smile, turning his hand so that his palm is face down, making a point not to let his fingers brush against the skin under my sheer sleeves.
A quiet snort echoes in my mind.
How convenient.
We walk to the grand staircase in silence. Music grows louder with each step I take, as does the laughter and conversation of the hundreds of Immortals gathered below, waiting for us to arrive so dinner can begin.
My fingers flex against his forearm.
Des pauses at the top of the stairs. From the corner of my eye, I see him turn towards me. I keep my eyes forward.
“Are you ready?” He repeats the question he’d asked when he arrived to escort me to dinner.
To face a room full of lesser Immortals who believe I’m your soulmate, some of whom want to kill me?
Hell no.
“Of course.” I roll my shoulders back and take a steadying breath to hide my terror. “Let’s do this.”
30
