We take the stairs toward the ballroom. The sound of a live orchestra already reverberates through the house, and despite my still rather confused state of mind, I find myself giddy at the prospect of a ball—and by the looks of it, it's going to be a ball like those I've seen in the movies.

As we reach the hallway leading to the main wing of the house, an unexpected sight greets us.

Ze.

He's dressed all in black, though his belt is now a deep purple, with the sheath of his sword an identical color. His hair is brushed back, emphasizing the symbols on his face.

I slowly raise my gaze to meet his, my breath leaving my lungs.

A visceral feeling stabs at my chest. My pulse is through the roof, and I find it hard to breathe.

Our gazes are affixed to one another, his purple pupils seemingly glowing in the dimly lit hallway.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his lips stretch into a smile.

To my surprise, I find that mine do the same, returning the smile with a shy one of my own.

He puts one step in front of the other. The proximity becomes maddening, my body humming with pleasure as he stops in front of us. He offers me his arm, and I take it.

A gasp flies past my lips at the contact. The heat from his body envelops mine, making the mark above my chest pulsate with a foreign need—one that is as confusing as it is all-encompassing.

I glance up at him to find him staring at me intently, his lips half-parted.

I lick my own in response.

"You look beautiful tonight, Luce." He clears his throat, as if he's forgotten how to speak.

"You look quite dashing yourself," I manage, fighting my way against acute breathlessness.

The dress is suddenly too restrictive. Too hot. Too...

God, I cannot take my eyes off him. My blood pounds furiously in my veins. Without even realizing, I get closer to him, rubbing my shoulder against his arm—all in an effort to absorb more of his heat...of his scent.

"Ze," I whisper, wetting my lips.

His pupils grow larger.

I don't know what I meant to say—perhaps ask him to whisk me away to some place and relieve me of this ache that seems to build inside of me, a tension that's ready to snap unless I find some relief. And for some reason, I know only he can give me that relief.

Leaning into me, he brushes his lips against my ear.

"You are staring," he murmurs.

"W-what?" I stammer, my throat dry.

"Do not stop. I like it."

SIXTY-ONE

"I don't remember anyone inviting you tonight, Ze," Thea quips, breaking the spell.

"I invited myself." Ze shrugs, not taking his eyes off me.