Page 261 of Reign

She holds one over the fire until it catches, watches the flame consume the sugar like she’s conducting some small, unnecessary crime, then blows it out with a satisfied breath.

The marshmallow is black.

Charred.

A ruin.

She studies it like she has achieved something.

“What you’re doing should be illegal,” I say.

Elena slides the marshmallow between two graham crackers with a piece of chocolate and looks at me over the fire. “You’re incorrect.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She bites into the s’more, and the burnt shell cracks between her teeth. Her eyes close for half a second. “See? Perfect.”

“That is carbon.”

“It’s texture.”

“It’s ash.”

“It’s flavor.”

“It’s evidence.”

She holds the rest of it out to me.

I look at the blackened marshmallow, then at her.

Her brow lifts.

A challenge.

Of course.

I take it from her and bite down.

The burnt sugar cracks between my teeth. The chocolate is melted enough to be tolerable. The marshmallow tastes like smoke and poor judgment.

Elena watches me as if my answer matters.

I swallow. “Terrible.”

Her smile flashes. “Liar.”

I smile.

She sits across the fire from me wearing one of my shirts, her bare legs tucked beneath her and her hair still damp from the shower. Firelight warms the side of her face, turning her skin gold and her eyes darker than usual.

There is melted chocolate at the corner of her mouth.

I don’t tell her yet.

She’s perfect as is.

The list is upstairs with seven names crossed out and mine written beneath them.