Page 107 of Stalked By Seduction and Shadows

I shook my head, laughing with her. “I don’t either.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” she asked. “I know you haven’t been mentioning him in front of me because you’re scared I’ll get mad at you.”

I turned to face her. I nodded slowly.

“I won’t ever be angry. I won’t ever blame you for anything that happens because of your relationship with him. I want you to know that you can trust me, because the worst thing for you now would be isolation. Let me be there for you, okay? I worry for you out of love, never anger.”

Tears pricked my eyes as a sudden wave of emotion slammed into me. Maybe I saw Isabella sometimes when I looked at Snow not because of any similarities, but because of just how diametrically opposed they were. Snow gave me freely what Isabella withheld. She held me tightest during the times Isabella only would’ve forcefully pushed me away.

“I love you, Snow,” I said, even though the words were like spiders crawling from my throat.

She beamed. “I love you too. You’re my favorite human in this whole fucked-up world.”

“And you’re my favorite witch,” I said, lowering my voice. “But don’t tell Eli.”

Snow burst into laughter. “Of course not. The poor lovesick boy would be crushed.” She dramatically clutched her heart.

“Oh, Helia. Now I feel bad,” I groaned.

She waved a hand. “No. We’re not allowed to feel anything but powerful looking this fucking sexy. It’s a rule.”

I nodded, making my features serious. “You’re right. Powerful and divine.”

She pressed her forehead to mine, both of us giggling now, unable to help our own giddiness from spilling over. “Exactly.”

50

SCARLETT

The opera house was on the outskirts of River, pressed up against one of the border districts. The hint of danger had a thrill coiling through my system. Far more intoxicating were the hundreds of stares from the attendees climbing the grand marble steps toward the front entrance. The building was a masterpiece, domed and carved from glimmering moonstone in honor of Selena and her dominion over the arts.

The sun had descended, the dark sky now ruled by the moon and the glittering cosmos. I, of course, only thought of Rune when I stopped to stare up at them.

At a tug from Snow, I continued climbing the steps, soaking up the glances my way and the corresponding charge of desire. Desire to be near me, to touch me, or to be me.

Chatter and laughter carried through the crisp air, and the light from inside the opera house bathed us in a warm glow. Witches dressed in formal black suits scanned our tickets and then assessed us energetically for weapons.

Inside, the space was as lavish as a palace, the floors deep blue and accented with marble statues, and the walls decorated with fine art. Servers carried around platters of drinks and canapes.

One of the women dressed as a server came up to us, donning a full arm of a black geometric tattoo.

“I’m Bethany, your personal attendant for the evening,” she said, a light and breezy air about her. “Anything you need, just let me know. I’ll always be near.”

Snow looked from me to her to me again, her eyes going wide.

“Thank you,” I quickly said for the both of us.

Bethany nodded and backed away, giving us space.

“This is insane,” Snow said in a loud whisper.

We were both awestruck, shamelessly gazing around the space as if we’d been transported to a different realm of existence.

Snow laughed, pulling me toward a platter of drinks. “Elixir?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, but you go ahead.”

For a split second, I felt the call of the empty place, remembered hands on my bare skin as I mumbled a soft no.

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