Until now.
I stole a glance at him—his sharp profile, his jaw tight, his dark hair brushing over his broad shoulders. He was here. He'd sought me out. Asked me to come with him tonight.
Why the sudden change?
What did he really want from me?
The silence was unbearable. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—when Dimitri's voice cut through the tension.
"You two know this is supposed to be a date, right?" He glanced in the rearview mirror, ice-blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Dates usually involve talking. Flirting. Maybe even eye contact."
Dimitri seemed almost... concerned. Which was strange. Why would he care if Rocco and I weren't talking?
It wasn't like we'd ever been a thing.
"Shut up, Dimitri," Rocco muttered.
"I'm just saying." He shrugged, turning onto a tree-lined drive. "The sexual tension back there could set off a smoke detector. Might as well do something about it."
My cheeks burned. Rocco's nostrils flared.
Dimitri grinned. "Or don't. This is entertaining too."
Before either of us could respond, the limo slowed. Wrought-iron gates loomed ahead, the metallic scrollwork gleaming in the moonlight. They swung open as we approached, revealing the long drive that led to the heart of Red Rose Academy.
My breath caught.
I'd been here a hundred times, but tonight it looked different. Thousands of fairy lights twinkled in the ancient oaks lining the drive. Luminaries glowed along the pathway. And at the end, Rosewood Grand Hall rose up like something out of a dream—all pale stone and soaring windows, its façade bathed in soft golden light.
This was where graduations were held. Where balls and galas brought the oldest bloodlines and darkest crowns together. Where, tonight, the most powerful beings in the world would gather to celebrate a century of love.
And I was walking in on Rocco Palazzo's arm.
The limo pulled to a stop at the entrance. Dimitri climbed out and came around to my side first. He opened the door and held out his hand, a smirk still playing at his lips.
"My lady."
I clasped his hand and let him help me out, my heels clicking against the cobblestones.
Rocco followed behind me, close enough that his scent wrapped around me—woodsy, warm, so masculine. So him.
My fangs lengthened before I could stop them, pressing against my lower lip. The urge to turn around, to press my mouth to his throat, to scrape my teeth against his skin and taste his blood?—
I shook my head, trying to knock the lust out of my brain.
Get it together, Selena. You're at a formal event. With hundreds of supernatural elites. And your fangs are out like some fledgling who can't control herself.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, willing them to retract. They did—barely.
This night was going to be a disaster.
Rocco's hand settled on my lower back, warm and possessive through the thin fabric of my gown. My skin tingled where he touched me.
"Let's go," he said, his voice low.
Before we could move, Dimitri stepped forward and clasped Rocco's arm. The playful smirk was gone. His ice-blue eyes were deadly serious.
"Call. When you need me to pick you up."
