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N o… I inhaled deeply, fear a wild thing inside of me as I watched Calista turn and run toward the dance floor.

No, no, no, no!

I let go of Matias and took off after her, gathering my skirts as I went through the doorway and back into the ballroom. What did she hear? What did she see ?

Oh god, please…please don’t let something bad happen. Please!

I scanned the hundreds of faces twirling on the floor until my eyes caught sight of wavy blonde locks, creamy skin, and a black dress out towards the middle of the floor.

I didn’t hesitate. I launched myself into the mass, swimming among the faces and glittering gowns, trying to reach Calista.

If she saw Matias kiss me…if she heard him begging me to stay with him…

Panic surged within me, desperation rising.

I had to reach her before she had a chance of uttering a single word.

I pushed through, forced myself through the maze, watching as her figure came closer and closer.

Please, please, please, please… I kept begging the universe, begging the stars, begging God, begging whoever or whatever was up there.

I shoved past a couple swirling in front of me, and then dodged another as a man dipped a woman’s body in my path.

Breathe, Mara. Just breathe.

She was close…just within reach. I stretched out my hand, fingers opened wide as I wrapped them around Calista’s shoulder and pulled her back toward me, spinning her around. As she spun to face me, her surprised expression shifted, and her evil smile slipped into place as she arched a brow.

“Calista,” I breathed out.

“Oh, Mara,” she said, her voice saccharine. “It’s you…the little princess of Telvia.”

She was mocking me, but I had to keep it together.

Blondie was a ticking bomb—one I couldn’t afford to let detonate.

Not when all of my plans were already hanging on the edge.

Not when Charles already believed me to be nothing more than some sort of Telvian harlot, pulled out of District 3 to play the part of Telvian royalty.

“Calista,” I said again cautiously, and I could hear it. I could hear the silent plea in my voice. “What did you see?”

She lifted her chin high as a dangerous grin curled on her lips. “My dear Mara,” she began, just a little too loudly. “I took you for a lot of things…” Her voice got louder with each word she uttered, enough that the people surrounding us started to turn and pay attention.

I smiled nervously at everyone before setting my gaze back on her. “Calista, please ,” I begged under my breath. “Whatever you think you saw—”

She spoke over me as she shook her head with feigned disappointment and shock, one hand settling over her chest. “I just never took you for a slut .” The last word came out way too loud. If no one was paying attention before, they were definitely paying attention now. Everyone backed away from us.

My cheeks reddened as a tremor settled over my body. “ Please ,” I begged again, my voice coming out as a whisper. “It’s not what you think.”

“Tell me what I should think, Telvian .” She slowly stalked around me, like a jaguar circling prey.

I couldn’t breathe, a knot forming in my throat, threatening to suffocate me.

And I was frozen under the accusatory gazes of hundreds of eyes as Calista walked around behind me.

She stepped up close, bringing her ruby painted lips to my ear and whispered so that only I could hear her.

“You might be the First Daughter of Telvia, but a bad reputation can kill a future just as much as a knife in the back.”

My eyes widened. My heart seized. My stomach churned. It all happened so fast, too fast. No one else saw it. No one else knew just how malicious Blondie really was.

But I did.

I knew.

And I felt it. Her hands clasped the fabric at my back, and she yanked . The shawl dropped from my shoulders, slipping through my fingers, and cascaded to the floor. In one heartbeat, the landscape of my disfigured body was revealed to the world.

Naked truth.

Proof that I was worthless.

A weak body to be tortured.

Just a thing to be detested.

Broken.

“Oops,” she said dryly, stepping away from me. She didn’t stay to watch. She didn’t need to. Because one look at the crowd showed me nothing but repulsed faces.

I didn’t know when the music stopped, but it only made everything worse. Because I heard them—mutterings, whispered accusations, condemnations…

“Nobility doesn’t like that…”

“How ugly…”

“Pity…she had such a pretty face…”

“Who on earth would want that thing …”

“How revolting…”

“It’s sickening…”

“What a disgrace…”

Their words filled my ears, spun in my mind, wrecked my soul.

It was every nightmare I ever had, brought to life from one breath to the next.

I watched as they gaped at me. They pointed, they stared, they sneered, they crumpled their faces in nauseating disgust. And not one of them looked at me with empathy.

Not one of them stepped forward to help.

I felt it. I felt as my body trembled under the weight of their judgmental stares.

I felt as my heart pounded in my chest, my breath too short, too shallow.

Dizziness swept through me as the world closed in.

And I was desperate and scared and hurt and ashamed and it was all just too much, too fast. I couldn’t do this.

It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth being shamed and humiliated.

It wasn’t worth having everyone look down on you like you were worthless.

Like you were something repulsive…something to be destroyed. Marissa’s warning mocked me.

If people see any part of you as broken…they will destroy you.

But what if you were already broken? What if there was little left of you, and what was left was nothing more than a shadow of the person you were meant to be? What if…what if I was already shattered?

Worthless.

My chest heaved as I reached to the floor, picking up the mockingly beautiful wrap to cover my shame.

As I stood up, I couldn’t help it anymore.

The tears flooded my vision and fell down the curves of my cheeks.

I gripped the useless fabric and carefully slipped it back over my shoulders, covering myself as a sob escaped me.

I couldn’t…I couldn’t do it anymore.

I was broken.

And just as I thought I would crumble under the critical glares of the crowd, I heard a soft, compassionate sound in my ear— him .

“Stay with me, Mara.” The warmth of his voice caused me to take a desperate breath.

And suddenly, Wes was in front of me, filling my vision.

I felt the heat of his body so close to mine.

The tender caress of his hands as they cupped my cheeks, guiding my face to his, keeping my focus on him.

“Stay with me,” he whispered again. I met his eyes then, drawn into the golden amber, alive and swirling, pulling me into their depths.

And when I did, everything inside of me seized.

Wes’s hazel eyes held me captive, and I allowed myself to be his prisoner, giving into the hunger and longing that flickered within.

“Stay with me,” he repeated gingerly once more.

My lips parted as my breath slowed, and the world blurred into nothing more than color and lights. His hands drifted down my neck, and then…he sent the shawl falling off my shoulders, back to the ground.

My breath hitched. “But—” I breathed out, the fear and desperation clawing back up my throat. “They’ll see.”

Wes never took his eyes off me. “Let them,” he whispered back. “Let them all see. Trust me.”

I could barely breathe as Wes took slow steps, slowly circling around behind me.

His hand traveled from my shoulder, grazing the landscape of my back.

Fervent, gentle fingers feathered the rise and fall of my past…

never hesitating, never halting. Just slow, intimate caresses as I stood there, doing my best to remain tall, to trust him.

I watched as the room held a collective breath as he stopped behind me.

Both his hands came to rest on my hips, drawing me toward him as his lips grazed my ear.

His breath fell over the skin of my neck, across the supple flesh of my shoulder, until it stopped.

With tender slowness, he placed one feathered kiss on my shoulder, making sure his lips grazed one of my scars, scorching my skin and stealing my breath.

It was a war inside of me, so many emotions erupting within. To have him touch my fragile skin, kiss the scars of my past…I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to feel . But the riot inside was climbing. The fevered intensity of every sensation Wes ever made me feel, filled me to the brim.

Wes continued his circle around me, his eyes meeting mine once again. My poor heart raced as the heat swirled like the inferno of the sun, threatening to burn me alive, and my lungs begged for breath I could not give them as Wes slowly slipped down onto one knee.

Oh my god.

“Mara,” he began, his voice steady, firm, and deep. “I see all of you. I see all that you were and all that you are. I’ve seen your past, and now I ask to be your future.”

Oh my ever-loving god.

Wes reached into his pocket and pulled out a platinum ring with a oval hazel-colored gem resting between two smaller white diamonds.

This wasn’t his grandmother’s ring. This was something completely different—beautiful—and more breathtaking than anything I could ever imagine.

Taking my left hand, he held up the ring in the other.

“Mara,” he paused, and I felt my chest tighten. “Stay with me?”

The world held its breath as time stood still.

I looked into Wes’s eyes and every memory I shared with him flooded through me.

Every moment of hidden desire. Every second wanting, longing for him.

All of it crowned by this one moment in time.

My lips parted, a word hanging on the tip of my tongue, but the fear…

the fear that maybe I wasn’t worth it gave me pause.

My eyes met his, and I swore I could see his soul in the depths of his eyes.

I heard his voice break through my doubt, echoing in my consciousness.

Stay with me.

And then the fog cleared, and breath finally entered my desperate lungs, deep and satisfying. I said the only thing that made sense.

“Always.”