Page 53 of Dance of Madness

I want to give it all away to someone who knows exactly how to take it.

The presence hits me suddenly.

I never hear a door open. I don't hear footsteps. I just sense a shift in the air behind me, like a storm sliding into the room.

Then I turn—and he’sthere.

Tall. I know that, because we’ve already talked about howI’mon the taller side, but he looms a full foot over me.

Dressed in black and masked, like me. He says nothing at first, just watches me, his breath low and steady, waiting to see if I’ll bolt.

I don’t.

Notyet.

He steps closer, and I feel the heat of his body before he even touches me. His fingers graze along my jaw, then slide down under my chin to tilt my face up. His mask, like mine, is plain. No features, just blankness to hide the boy behind it.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks.

I shiver, realizing it’s the first words I’ve ever heard him speak. I like his voice.

A lot.

I nod. He pauses before tilting his head to the side slightly.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

“I’m sure,” I whisper.

His fingers tighten slightly. “Your safe word isgreen.”

I nod again. We've talked about safe words.

Then he lets go and slowly backs away into the dark.

I don’t move.

For a second, I think that’s it. That maybe this was a test, and I’ve already failed.

Then I hear the scrape of his boots behind me. My pulse skips, and my skin erupts in tingles and shivers.

“If you’re waiting to start,” he growls from the shadows. “We already have.”

I hear the flat smack of his shoes against the hardwood floor, and the rough intake of his breath, like he’s eager for this.

I turn, and Irun.

The warehouse is huge, full of overlapping, crawling shadows. I sprint through the dark, lungs burning. The sound of his footsteps follows close behind.

Closer, closer,so fucking close.

I don’t want to stop. I’ve never felt this alive.

It’s not just fear. It’s adrenaline. It’s the heat from being wanted in a way that isn’t restrained orpolite.

I dart around a pillar. Then another. I can’t see him, but I can feel him, like static crackling over my skin: his breath first, then the whisper of his hand almost catching my sleeve. Then nothing.

Then—everything.

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