Page 138 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Quinn grazed her fingers against the handrail and methodically stepped to a four-four rhythm, and her dress danced with every movement. Quinn swallowed as her slippers clicked against the marble. A crowd of eyes tracked her, but only the chestnut ones mattered. Emrys had finally come into view, and he took a subtle step forward, signaling to everyone on the dance floor that he was paying extra attention. His jaw was set in a hard line, buthis eyes sparkled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place . . . maybe desire.
She shook out her shoulders, trying to release tension. But it didn’t work because everyone else in the room was focused on her—Quinn, the poor, pathetic orphan with very little to her name. The girl who’d captured the prince’s attention, and in the crowds’ minds falsely so. There was nothing special about her. Nothing worthy of the golden prince’s heart.
A young, twenty-something girl in a pink dress whispered to her friend, “She’s not even that pretty.”
“Yeah, she has a lovely enough face, but she is so skinny,” a girl in green responded.
The crowd found her wanting and whispered unkind words as she passed, jealousy, confusion, and resentment coating their poisoned tongues. Their words caused a surge of shame to rupture through her core, and she was left feeling exposed, vulnerable, and dumb—the way she felt reading. Especially because while the prince showed her favor and would possibly choose her to be his bride, they had no idea that it was all for show, all fake.
Because Emrys was all show.
And it was that fakeness that killed Quinn. Because, for once in her life, she just wanted to be truly chosen. Not for her family connections, necklaces, or council tattoos. Or her ability to hunt down a killer. She just wanted to be loved and seen forwhoshe was, not what she could do for someone. She wanted to be worthy of more than quick kisses and useful skills.
Nothing about the moment felt happy.
She was a porcelain doll on display, ready to be toyed with or broken. That was it. But those jealous whispers would never know it.
Quinn tried to calm herself and not focus on them. Counting had worked in the past, so she sucked in a breath and listened to the clicks of her heels.Click: one, click: two, click: three. Breathe. You can do this. Click: four. Breathe.Click: five.
It helped keep her emotions in check—sort of—but her hair was still a solid black. At least it was better than a sea of colors.
Reaching the center of the room, her heels stilled, and she stopped eight feet away fromherprince. Silence stretched between them as they locked eyes. Even with all the pain and the fakeness, she couldn’t help but seek comfort in him. And maybe that was enough. Because although it wasn’t real, hehad chosenher.
Perhaps the Playboy Prince wasn’t capable of being real. Perhaps this was all he could give. And maybe, just maybe, that could be enough for her—at least for now.
Emrys wore a perfectly tailored tuxedo and gold cravat—matching her. Again.
In three long strides, he reached her and tilted her head up to meet his brilliant eyes—the color of the forest bark just before sunrise.
He was so beautiful, this stupid, glorious vampire.
Sound faded away—the music, the chatter, and even the clicks of glassware were gone, and only he existed. The world stilled for a perfect moment, and it was just the two of them in a blur of color. Tension licked her insides, and it wasn’t just coming from the fear and anticipation of the soon-to-be fight; it was also coming from her desire for him.
Because as much as she denied it, she needed this man in so many ways.
“A dance, Miss Ashelle?” Emrys held out his hand.
A dance would give them a moment alone among the sea of revelry. It would be the best moment to warn him.
“Why, yes, of course.” She smiled and slid her fingers into his.
Quinn sucked in a breath as he pulled her into a tight hold, and in his arms, her hair morphed back into its typical red—her hair liked him just as much as she did. Emrys’s scent was intoxicating and calming. He smelled of sandalwood, cinnamon, and safety.
With his eyes, Emrys asked the question,Are you okay? And then she heard it in her mind.
No, her insides screamed.Where have you been?
Confined to the castle, his words rang in her head.Compelled to stay. I’ve been so worried about you. Jevon—
“I know,” Quinn whispered right before he spun her out and then pulled her back in. Their steps were perfectly in sync because they had trust and a true partnership.Jevon plans to break the Accordsin front of all of New Swansea and take control of the city.Quinn sucked in a breath.He also wants to destroy you . . . to expose you as a vampire in front of everyone.
How do you know all of this?
They froze in the middle of the dance floor, their eyes on fire for each other. Skirts swooped around them, and the sounds of clicking heels and the strokes of violin bows cut through the sizzling air between them.
She inhaled sharply, afraid of her next words. When I traded my soul to the mirror, I also traded for duplicates of every painting in that mirror, and I gave him fakes.
His body tensed, and his face paled.Oh, Quinn, your soul—
