Page 26 of Emylia

Daring me.

Coaxing me.

His gazed pinned me like a question I hadn’t been asked—but was already expected to answer. Like he was daring me to rise to a challenge I didn’t even know I’d already accepted. And somehow, I could feel it burning beneath my skin–like it wasn’t just demanding I survive it, butconquerit.

Command it.

Ruleit.

Like I was born to be its Gods-damned queen.

Vanishing down a side alley, I melted into the wall. The alley swallowed me whole. Only when I hit the stone wall did I let myself breathe—and barely.

Shallow.

Uneven.

Like I’d just sprinted for my life.

Finally alone.

Finally safe to lose control.

Gods, I hated him. Hated the way one look made feel exposed.

Vulnerable.

Hated how smug he looked about it.

Hated that I was soawareof him.

Blue.Cerulean blue.

The color blue was burned into my mind. I couldn’t shake it. Couldn’t think past it. It lingered, seared into my mind like a brand, haunting every breath I took.

Get a grip, Em.

I was going to blame this all on my virgin hormones.

They were clearly batshit crazy.

After a few eternal seconds, I managed to get my breathing under control. Pain helped. A particularly pointy stone edged itself into my spine, dragging me back to reality and out of my vrykolakas-like trance.

With a ragged sigh, I pushed myself off the wall. Straightening my dress, I finally regained a grip on my composure.

I wasn’t going to bethatgirl.

Not for him.

Not of anyone.

“Get a hold of yourself.” I scolded, barely above a whisper. “You’re better than this.”

And I was.

I refused to surrender to my body’s traitorous whims. It clearly didn’t know what was good for it.

But I did.

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