Page 155 of The Kiss Of Death
His profile, cast in shadow, seemed carved from the very essence of darkness itself, sharp and unforgiving, capable of slicing through even the hardest of diamonds. Narrow nose.Sharp cheekbones. Deadly eyes. I blinked and tore my gaze away from him. He was always tormentingly gorgeous.
No, I had to get away from him.I can’t give in to him that easily.“I have to go.”
I backed away, but he didn’t try to follow me. His lips were still tilted into a thin line, his gaze fixed on me. I pushed past the crowd until I finally found Yasmine seated in the front row.
I reached her side, and she offered me her bag of brownies. “Oh, you made it! You’ll never guess what happened!”
She waited for me to take a seat before leaning closer.
“Tara came to my archery competition, and while I clearly sucked, she told me that she was proud of me.” Her jaw dropped, hands gesturing wildly. “Proud! She said proud! Like what the heck!”
I laughed. “That must have killed her to admit that.”
“Right?” She chortled. “Rugby is a sport for brutes. It will be fun to watch Tara crush half the boys.” She cheered, “Go, Tara!”
I smiled, relieved that Yasmine and her sister had reconciled and grateful that she was steering clear of the scandal, pretending that everything was normal.
“We need one more player!” Tara yelled, her legs spread apart, her feet planted firmly on the ground. “Preferably a pillar, a strong guy.” She pointed her finger at a man in the back. “Like you.” He shook his head, and she moved on to another victim. “Or you? Or maybe—”
“Me!” I raised my hand.
My father had never allowed me to play rugby or any of those kinds of sports, deeming them too dangerous and improper. But the new Dalia was determined to be fearless and adventurous, even if others needed some convincing—such as Tara grimacing, Sylas’s mouth gaping open, and Yasmine nearly choking on her snack.
“No offense, Dalia, but I want to win.”
“Then choose me,” I insisted.
“Um, Dalia, are you sure?” Yasmine whispered. “Look, there are mostly Pioneers here. No Tacticians and barely any Unifiers—”
I rose on my feet.
“And you’re already gone,” Yasmine said. “Good luck!”
Striding over to Tara, I extended my hand to receive the red armband of her team.
She offered me a sly grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got, but if we lose because of you, I’ll—”
“Kill me, I know.” I interrupted with a raised brow.
Just then, Levi barged in, pushing aside another student from Tara’s team and snatching his armband.
“It’s too late. My team is made, Levi.”
“I thought you wanted to win, Tara,” he countered, his all-too-perfect smile more menacing than friendly. “We both know how chaotic I can be.”
Tara let out an exasperated groan, gesturing between us like I had something to do with his behavior. “You two better not screw this up!”
I shot him a glare, my fists clenching at my sides. “Don’t try to protect me!”
All he could muster in response was a casual shrug before he pushed past my shoulder and positioned himself on the field. I sighed. Levi didn’t do teamwork. He despised physical contact, hated being messy, and hated people, yet there he was, the lone Tactician in this game.
“She’s the daughter of the guy who sold weapons to Los Calaveras. She must be monstrous,” one Pioneer joked, his eyes on me.
I tensed.
Levi cracked his neck, but before he could take a step forward, Tara faced her teammate. “She’s not her father, you idiot. Focus on the game instead.”
I exchanged glances with her, and I smiled to thank her.
