Page 199 of Emylia

I nodded. “Better than good.”

He cracked a smile, the corner of his mouth tugging up as he glanced sideways at me. “Don’t get cocky.”

I bumped my shoulder into his, grinning. “You love it when I’m cocky.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smirk deepened. “Debatable.”

He rolled his shoulders, loose and easy, then nudged me with his elbow. “Bet I can beat you there.”

I arched a brow. “What, to the clearing?”

He shrugged, all casual confidence, but there was a spark in his eyes now–the one that meant trouble. “Unless you’re scared.”

“Of you?”I scoffed. “In your dreams.”

“You don't want to know what goes on in my dreams.”

I shoved him, and he took it with a grin.

“On three?”I said.

“One.”

“Two—”

He took off before I even got the word out.

“You cheater!”

“I improvise!”he called over his shoulder, already halfway down the worn path.

I chased after him, laughter bursting from my throat before I could stop it. The air whipped around us, sharp and cold and exhilarating. My boots slipped once on the wet grass, but I kept going, catching up fast, knowing he eased his pace for me.

Just as I reached for his shirt to yank him back, he twisted, caught my wrist—and spun.

“Sebas—!”

I went flying into the soft grass with a thud, breath whooshing from my lungs. He landed beside me, breathless with laughter, grass tangled in his hair.

“Unfair!”I wheezed, swatting at him.

“Totally fair,”he grinned. “You should’ve seen your face.”

I tried to scowl, but I was laughing too hard.

The clearing stretched out before us, dappled in early sunlight, the scent of morning blooming wildflowers already stronger here. The grass was still cool beneath me. And for a second—just a second—I forgot everything else.

Sebastian sat up beside me, brushing a leaf from my hair with a flick of his fingers, like it had no right to be there. His touch lingered longer than it needed to—just long enough to steal my breath.

“You’ve got that look again,”he teased.

“What look?”I asked, even though I already knew.

He tilted his head, smirking as his eyes traced my face. “The smug one. The one that says you think you’re about to win.”

I grinned. “That’s because I am.”

He sprung to his feet in one fluid movement, a streak of sun glinting off his skin as he stood over me. There was something in the way he moved–effortless, wild, sharp–that made my stomach coil impossibly tight.

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