Page 114 of The Immortal's One
He extends an arm and opens his palm.
“Darcie…” My heart skips a beat, and warmth spreads through my core as unmistakable desire swirls in his eyes. “May I have this dance?”
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Awareness burnsthrough me the moment I reach for Des’s hand. Music continues to play, but the volume in the room dips as conversations stop and Immortals turn their piercing eyes to us.
My hands shake. But my unease takes a back seat when my fingers brush Des’s palm and familiar electric sparks scatter up my arm.
Breath catches in my throat, my gaze darts between Des’s stunning eyes. Hisgreeneyes.
I knew it.
I exhale a shuddered breath and try to gather my thoughts as Des leads me to the dancefloor. The sea of Immortals in our path part, but I don’t spare them a glance. I can’t look away from Des.
Back in my room, he’d acted as if mentioning his eyes changing color was a capital offense. His action implied it was a secret no one should know about.
But now? He’s holding my hand for all to see.
I finally tear my gaze away and look around us, lockingeyes with the Immortals watching our movements before they lower their heads.
Have they noticed that his eyes have changed color?
It doesn’t seem like it.
The urge to ask Des to explain what’s happening gnaws at me, but there are too many people. My gut says drawing attention to his eyes is the last thing I should do.
The orchestra is mid-song, but the dancers slow and eventually come to a halt, their gazes fixed on us as we step onto the edge of the dance floor.
This was a mistake.
I think I’m going to be sick.
I shouldn’t have agreed to dance with Des. I was trying to avoid causing a scene, but I only created an even bigger one.
Please, like you didn’t enjoy making Liana jealous.
I press my lips together.
I mean, yeah. Part of me enjoyed seeing the dismissive beauty’s cheeks burn with envy when Des asked me to dance.
But now? Now, I regret not figuring out a way to decline. I’ve felt like I’ve been under a microscope all evening, but this… this feels infinitely worse.
“It’s all right.” Des squeezes my fingers. Another bolt of electricity travels up my arm. “Pretend I’m the only one here.”
As if that’s any less unnerving.
I drag my eyes off the trio of Immortal women huddled in the corner, their maroon and cream fans fluttering as they gossip in low voices, and meet his reassuring gaze.
I inhale through my nostrils and dip my head once.
The song ends, and without missing a beat, another begins—a slow, somber melody replacing the earlier upbeat tune.
I wonderif the switch was intentional as Des draws me closer, my chest brushing his.
My brain short-circuits.
His scent wraps around me—warm spice and woodsmoke, familiar yet utterly intoxicating. It’s the kind of fragrance you might find bottled in colognes or cheap deodorants, easily overlooked on anyone else. But on him? It clings like a second skin, subtle and magnetic, and it makes my pulse trip over itself.
