Page 62 of Beautiful Venom

And yet my gaze studies her, taking her all in as if she’s a drug I’m inhaling deep into my lungs.

And I don’t even do drugs.

Dahlia is dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, a beat-up leather jacket, and her usual white sneakers. Her hair is loose, falling to her shoulders in soft waves, framing the infuriatingly determined expression on her face.

I hate that look.

I hate that she always has it, no matter what she goes through.

It’s what makes me want to break her to pieces.

Smash her.

Ruin her so thoroughly, she’ll never be able to stand up again.

See if she’ll dare to ever look at me.

“You’re drooling,” Preston whispers, then waves. “Thorne! Over here, saved you a seat.”

The entire hall stares at her.

It’s unusual for any of the girls to get to sit with us. Isabella and her minions made sure of it. So they only approach if one of us calls them over.

Dahlia lifts her head and pauses, her forefinger tracing cryptic messages on her thumb.

Like a witch.

Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s capable of making potions of some sort.

Her eyes meet mine and she holds my gaze for one second.

Two…

Three…

On the fourth, she slides her attention to Preston and offers a rehearsed smile as she walks up.

Her steps are unhurried and confident despite the whispers and unwanted attention directed at her. She stops beside us, and instead of walking straight ahead and coming to the vacant seat by my side, she does a whole detour and goes to Preston’s side.

My index finger twitches, but I focus back on the textbook and start to read gibberish about politics.

“Hi,” she whispers, and I feel her gaze on me.

“Over here, lovely.” Preston points at himself like a gigolo. “I’m the one who saved you the seat.”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Anything for a beautiful lady.”

I calmly turn the page, even though I didn’t read a single word.

Preston can’t die.

Dahlia is just a pawn.

“Listen,” he continues. “Heard Kane is giving you a hard time. Forget about him. He’s too rigid and aloof and doesn’t know how to treat women. How about you come to me? You can join me and the team next Friday after the game as my personal guest. It’s a super-exclusive party for the close circle.”

I can feel her gaze on me again.

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