Page 36 of Wicked Knight
Another gasp falls from her lips. “Oh my God. What do you meanjust a kiss? There’s no such thing. What else happened?”
“Nothing much. He said we’d talk soon. I haven’t heard from him since. I figured we’d see each other once we got back to Raventhorn.”
“Oh, Mackenzie,” she swoons with a little squeal, then she crosses her fingers on both hands. “Please tell me you’re going to see where this goes.”
My shoulders sag like weights are attached to them. “I don’t know. I feel stuck. I think I should stick to the plan.”
She frowns, pursing her glossy lips. “But this could be a good thing.”
“I don’t see how.” I keep circling back to the same answer that doing anything with Dmitri will be a disaster.
Isabelle’s about to say something more when something catches her attention.
I follow her gaze to the double doors on the first-floor balcony and see them.
The elite—Kade, Dmitri, Logan, and Alek.
The four of them are standing in the doorway like the gods of Olympus.
They didn’t even bother with the elaborate masquerade masks everyone else is wearing. Their masks are the skeletal, bone-white ones most of us recognise from high school when they were Hades’ Demons. It was cool, so I’m not surprised Alek has joined in with his own mask.
When they stride in, the room seems to hold its breath.
The hollow eyes and sinister grins on their faces exude power. The effect is almost jarring, like death itself has walked into a room full of living decadence.
Kade leads, the skull mask enhancing the razor edge of his confidence. But he’s looking straight at Isabelle—his wife-to-be—who looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle of water.
Again, I envy them. They’re not just in love, they’re crazy about each other in a way that inspires people to write songs and create art.
Logan falls in step with Kade with his devil-may-care swagger, Alek flashes a wicked grin at someone staring too long, and Dmitri…
His predatory gaze locks on me, hints at chaos just waiting to ignite.
My breath stills, and the walls of my mind tremble.
The weight of their arrival is palpable with whispers rippling through the room like an untamed current, but my focus is on the guy who’s had my head spinning.
The heat of his gaze pierces the distance between us, as if he's marking me as his next move. I realize he is when the group continues down the steps and he breaks away from them, making his way across the balcony.
Warm fingers touch my arm. It’s Isabelle.
I look back at her and find her smiling.
“Looks like someone wants you to follow him.” She lifts her chin toward Dmitri, who is still looking at me.
“I think so.”
“Go. Go talk to him.”
I nod.
Looks like that promise to talk soon is happening now.
Chapter Eight
Mackenzie
I leave Isabelle and walk toward the crowd, my gaze still hooked on Dimitri's.