Page 67 of Dance of Deception

The pressure builds. My body writhes and arches against him as his fingers drive into me over and over, getting ready to push me over the edge. Just as I feel myself spiraling into something I can’t come back from?—

He stops.

I let out a sharp, frustrated breath, body taut, pulse racing.

Carmine chuckles, dark and smug. I stare in a mixture of shame and confusion as he slips his hand from between my thighs and brings it up between us. Heat floods my cheeks when I see the way his fingers glisten stickily in the flickering candlelight.

His eyes lock with mine as he brings his fingers to his mouth, opens his lips, and slowly, deliberately, licks his fingers clean.

Then he leans in one last time

“You belong to me,” he murmurs. “I’d make peace with that if I were you.”

He licks his fingers once more, bringing a fresh wave of heat to my face. Then he turns, unlocks the bathroom door and steps out, letting it close softly behind him.

…Leaving me shaking, breathless, and completely unraveled.

I linger a few more minutes, clutching the edge of the sink, trying to catch my breath, my eyes refusing to meet their own gaze in the mirror in front of me.

Mercifully, the incoming text notification from my phone in my clutch breaks the tension. Turning, I lean against the sink and pull it out of my bag, glancing down at the screen.

Unknown

Blood doesn’t turn on blood, Lyra.

Unknown

You betrayed your family.

It feels like an ice-cold knife plunging into my chest. I stare at the screen as my throat slowly constricts, horror raking its nails down my back.

The entire world goes still, frozen around me. My whole universe is my eyes, reading the screen in my hands with the nightmarish texts.

Unknown

You’ll pay dearly for putting me away, moya dorogaya doch’.

If I could scream, I would. But I can't. Instead, terror just claws at my throat, sending poison coursing through my veins as my reality shatters like glass around me.

12

LYRA

The club is packed,a flashing neon blur of dancing, writhing bodies. The bass throbs deep in my chest, and there’s a charge to the air, like an explosion could happen at any moment.

Which, given the company I’m in, isentirelypossible.

Milena, Brooklyn, Naomi, Evelina, Bianca, and I are clustered into our own corner near the bar, where my friends are intently trying to convince me to have some fun at my bachelorette party, and—to that end—feeding me drinks.

I didn’t ask for the party, and have no idea how to pretend this is a night worth celebrating.

Still, a night out is a night out, andthatI could certainly use.

Especially after what happened at the engagement party two nights ago, where Carmine managedonce againto shatter and destroy every single wall I have, like it’s his life's mission to set my world on fire and toast marshmallows over the flames.

I tip my glass back, swallowing past the knot in my throat.

The tequila burns on the way down, but it’s not enough.

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