Page 52 of Veil of Secrets

Not from me.

I let out a slow breath.

“Elara,” I say.

She lifts her chin.

“Yeah?”

“It’s safe now.”

It’s not true.

We both know that.

But it’s all I can offer in this second.

She looks down at the body, then at my hand, still holding the knife.

Then at my face.

Her mouth curves—not a smile. Something sharper.

“That guy seriously thought he had a shot,” she says.

I kneel, wipe the blade on the dead man’s jacket, then stand again.

“He never had a plan,” I say. “Just bad timing.”

I move past the body, step toward her.

The mask is still hanging from her ear. I lift a hand and adjust it—sliding it back over her eyes, gently tying the strap at the side again.

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t stop me.

“You alright?” I ask.

She nods once.

“He almost ruined the game,” she says.

I tilt my head. “We’ll finish it later.”

She gives me a look through the lace.

“Only if I win.”

I brush a hand down her side. Stop at her hip.

Her skin’s still warm. Still responding.

“Then you better be ready,” I say.

“I’m always ready.”

We stand like that.

The music outside still pounds faintly. Bass, rhythm, laughter.

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