I search his eyes, their intensity unsettling me, making my pulse quicken. They flick down to my lips, and my breath catches as he almost imperceptibly, but unmistakably, clenches his jaw as if to show a modicum of restraint.
“What do you feel, Princess?” he asks, his voice rough, dropping lower as he leans closer.
My chest tightens.
“Nothing.” My voice is barely more than a whisper now.
He hums softly as he leans back, the sound stirring an unwanted warmth low in my stomach. I hate how easily he can fluster me.
“I think you feel far more than you’ll ever let yourself admit,” he says.
My shoulders go still. I don’t respond right away. I don’t know how to. But as my brows draw together, something inside me falters.
“Careful, vampire,” I say delicately. “You look at me as though you’ve forgotten who I am.”
His smile widens just slightly, just enough to reveal the dimple on his cheek.
“Forgotten?” he counters, with a quiet confidence that makes my stomach twist. “No, I know exactly who you are.”
I turn to face him fully, my heart pounding.
“We’ve only known each other a short time,” I say, keeping my voice steady, defensive but controlled.
He tilts his head, stepping closer.
“Do you think meeting you implies I don’t already know things about you?”
My cheeks burn at the insinuation.
“Or,” he continues, quieter now, almost intimate, “that I haven’t seen you more than once?”
“So you presume to know me just because you’ve seen me as others have?” I say at last, almost fragile. “I am a princess, Casper. Everyone has seen me.”
He pauses, his gaze unwavering as it meets mine.
“No,” he says softly. “I don’t believe anyone truly sees you.”
Those eyes hold me captive, leaving no space for anything but truth. In that moment, the world around us blurs and vanishes. The cool candor in his words and his unyielding stare overwhelm me, as though I’ve been caught in a spider’s web.
“And what do you see?” I ask hesitantly, clinging to a façade that keeps slipping through my fingers.
He studies me, slowly drinking in every inch of me. His eyes linger on mine, then drop to my lips before settling on my gloved hands. His jaw tightens as he looks at them, something unreadable flashing in his expression before he meets my eyes again.
“I know no one has seen you without your gloves.”
Embarrassment prickles at the back of my neck, and I take a small step back, trying to create just enough distance to steadymyself. My hands twitch at my sides as I force a response, keeping my voice light.
“Maybe I get cold.” I say with a slight shrug, raising my chin in mock defiance.
His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, and there’s a glint of playfulness in his eyes.
“Cold?” he asks. “I don’t think that’s it.” His gaze drops to my hands again before returning to my face. “No, those aren’t gloves—they’re armor, aren’t they, Princess?”
My breath catches in my throat, his words knocking down my carefully built walls. He’s not teasing—he’s deadly serious.
“I wonder what secrets you hide from those who wish toseeyou,” he says, dripping with an almost sultry intensity.
Heat rushes to my face, and my arms fold instinctively. A barrier I hope will keep him from seeing anything more.
