“Where are we going?” she asked, and only got a grin in the dark in response. She almost tripped on the folds of her dress, but he held her firmly, all the way until the bottom of the stairs.
They must have been at the base of the castle—underground, maybe. Orbs holding white light crowded the corners of the room, floating like balloons. The walls were arched, held up by columns, and beyond them sat a slice of dark water like a piece of the nighttime sky trapped below.
It shimmered, startling her, and she took a step back.
Right into his chest. She stilled.
Grim placed a hand on her waist. Her shoulders hiked up, his body ice-cold but leaving heat blooming beneath her skin. His fingers trailed down to her hip bone. His thumb circled the delicate skin just beyond it. Closer and closer to even more sensitive places. Isla pinched her lips together.
In her heels, she was tall enough so that when she leaned back, her head rested against his shoulder. From that angle, she imagined he could see down her dress, only a few leaves keeping her from being completely exposed. Still, under his piercing gaze, she felt bare. Breathing became difficult. One hand gripped her hip harder, pinning her to him, while the other traveled across her stomach. His knuckles trailed up her ribs,only stopping once they reached the heavy underside of her chest. They grazed her there, and she was suddenly aching, her skin prickling, heat pooling. She met his eyes and found them dark with—
She didn’t know what that was.
Was it desire?
Was it ... sadness?
“What are you thinking?” she asked, turning to face him.
Grim looked at her like he knew her, like he saw her for what she truly was and not what she pretended to be. She felt naked before him, not just because he had touched her where no one else ever had but also knowing he sensed her every change in emotion. The pulsing desire for him to touch hermore,for him to pull her dress down and touch her everywhere without any fabric between them.
“I’m thinking ...” he said darkly.Thinking what?He reached for her.
And blinked. His entire expression changed.
The hand he had reached toward her now reached inside his pocket.
“... that I have something for you.” He pulled out a necklace. It had a dark chain, holding a black diamond as large as a plum.
Isla’s eyebrows came together. He was giving her jewelry? She didn’t know what to say. Her face was still hot. The diamond was beautiful, but she didn’t want a gem—she wanted him, pressed against her. Immediately.
Grim grinned, sensing everything. He looked ready to take her into his arms once more but seemed to think better of it, because he turned his attention to his gift. “May I?”
She nodded, hoping he didn’t mistake her disappointment for not liking his present. She lifted her hair, and he clasped the necklace into place, tight around her neck, his fingers lingering for just a moment.
“I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself,” he said, head bent low, breath against her nearly bare shoulder. “But should you ever need me, touch this. And I will come for you.”
She glanced down at it again with greater appreciation.
I will come for you.He had said it like a promise.
She needed any protection she could get. Something like this would be useful, especially after seeing his display of power. Especially now that they were minutes away from killing being permitted.
Yet—
“Grim. I can’t ... I can’t wear this.” It would be a statement. Oro had already suspected they might be working together. This would all but confirm it. She couldn’t do anything that would compromise her and Oro’s alliance, not when it seemed like the only chance to break her and Celeste’s curses.
“I know.” Two of his fingers pressed against the chain, against her neck, and it went invisible.
She looked up at him. Didn’t know what to say, wanted to thank him ... but the words formed and died in her throat.
Grim reached toward her again, all restraint gone, and trailed his knuckles down her cheek, the necklace, her collarbones. Down the center of her chest. “Hearteater,” he said gently. “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking,” he finally answered. Her body tensed in anticipation, taut like an arrow a moment away from careening through the air. She wanted his hand lower, higher, everywhere ...
But he dropped it instead.
He did not touch her again on their quiet walk back to the ballroom. She wanted to say something, do something, tell him ...
When she opened her mouth, he was already speaking.
