They are looking at me.
Tex reaches me first, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe, jaw dropping ever so slightly.
“You look…”
“Different?” I offer with a tilt of my head.
He smirks. “Delicious.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. Before I can answer, Luca steps in. “Forget dangerous. You’re stunning, sweetheart. Don’t let anyone close unless they deserve it.”
I give Luca a smile. I’ve never felt beautiful, never been told anything. But to have them looking at me like this? Like I’m some big discovery in the museum? It makes me feel good.
Confident.
Like maybe I’m not just a girl trying to fill her family’s legacy.
I’m just Isobel.
Noah’s voice comes from behind me, lower, more intimate. “We might need to revise the dress code. This? This is criminal.”
And Jace? He doesn’t speak. He just looks at me like I’m a bomb he hasn’t finished defusing yet.
My pulse thrums in my throat. I’m used to being the center of their attention — but not like this. Not when it isn’t cruel.
A slow song drifts in, and I turn to step away, feeling overwhelmed. But Tex is already offering a hand. “Dancewith me.”
I place my hand in his, feeling his rough palm against my fingers. He pulls me onto the dance floor as if it was inevitable — as if I belong there, with him, in his arms. The music is sultry, threaded with shadows and a beautiful kind of haunting. Around us, costumed silhouettes move in time. But in that moment, it’s just us.
His hand finds my waist, the other holding my hand tenderly. My skin buzzes from the contact, memory and sensation colliding like sparks on a fuse.
My cheeks warm.
We start to move, swaying back in forth. I don’t miss how his thumb brushes along my side, over the bare skin his hands have touched before. There’s no mask between us tonight — not really.
“You look more like yourself,” his voice low.
I scan his face. “You barely know me.”
He smirks, but it softens just enough to make my chest ache. “Yeah. But I like what I do know.”
We dance in silence for a beat, the air heavy with everything we won’t say. His palm tightens against me, like he’s holding himself back — from what, I’m not sure. Or maybe I am.
I look up at him, our faces just inches apart. “You keep looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to kiss me.”
“And if I do? Claim you as mine in front of everyone?” Tex’s eyes are dark with desire.
“I’m not an object to be claimed.” I lift my chin.
Tex’s eyes drop to my lips.
“I remember everything about that night,” I say, the words breathy. “I haven’t stopped.”
He exhales like I’ve caused him pain. “You’re dangerous when you’re honest,” he growls.
