Page 10 of To Die For
She lets me.
I stop just in front of her, barely a breath of space between us. The fog curls around our ankles. Her scent hits me, sweat and adrenaline, yes, but something sweeter beneath it. Salt on skin. Breathless, nervous energy.
If I lifted my mask right now, just a little, just enough—I could taste her. I don’t. Instead, I lean forward, my voice low and close to her ear, just soft enough that it makes her lean in without realizing. “You don’t want out of the maze.” Her breath stutters, but I don’t pull away. “You want to see what happens when you stop pretending to be scared.”
I feel her hands twitch. Not to push me away. Not quite to reach for me, either. She’s stuck in the space between want and fear. Between yes and no.
And I live in that space. I draw a gloved hand up, slow and unthreatening, and hover it just beside her cheek. I don’t touch her, but I let her feel the warmth of it. Theoptionof it. The moment she leans in even a centimeter, just the barest motion, I close the space.
Gloved fingers skim her jawline reverently. She gasps. I drag that same hand to the nape of her neck, fingers spreading, palm pressing gently against her spine. I feel the way her muscles tighten under my touch, like her whole body’s holding still, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
So I give her just enough. I lean down, still masked, until the porcelain mouth hovers beside hers. Close enough that she could tip forward and kiss it. Close enough that if I breathed, she’d feel it. “Say it,” I whisper.
She doesn’t answer. I tighten my grip on the back of her neck—not painful, just firm. Dominant. “Tell me what you want, Lila.”
Her breath catches again. She’s trembling now, but not from fear. Not really.
And that’s when I feel it—more than hear it.
Movement.Behind us.
To the right, and the left. The others are watching. Waiting.
Not interrupting. Not yet, but when the time comes, I know we’ll be fighting over who gets to take her first. But this moment? It’s mine.
But I feel Harlan’s presence thrum like a growl in the fog, possessive and dangerous. And Elias, he’s near too. Silent as ever. Calculating. They won’t stay in the shadows for long.
I press the front of my mask gently to her cheek, almost like a kiss, letting the cracked grin drag softly along her skin. “You should decide quickly, sweetheart,” I murmur. “Because soon? You won’t be choosing.”
CHAPTER 7
LILA
The fog tastes like metal and pine sap. It clings to my tongue, heavy as breath held too long. My heartbeat won’t calm; it just hammers harder, echoing in my ears like someone else’s footsteps.
They’re around me again, all three of them.
I take one small step back and feel my wings brush the corn. The gossamer fabric snags and tears with a faint hiss. My costume, pale green and silver, thin enough that the night air slides through it, suddenly feels ridiculous.
A fairy in a nightmare. Bare legs, glitter dust, trembling fingers.
White Maskmoves to my right, smooth and deliberate, making room for the others, porcelain cracked across a grin that should not look alive but somehow does.
Burlapfirst, towering, shoulders broad, his mask rough and stitched, turning every breath into a low rasp.
And in front of me, at the center, standsBlack Mask. Still. Straight-backed. Terrifying.
They’ve boxed me in.
My throat tightens, but I lift my chin anyway. I refuse to show them I’m shaking.
Black Mask tilts his head slightly. His voice, when it comes, is calm and deep, cutting clean through the fog. “Two choices, Lila.” The way he says my name makes it sound like a verdict.
He steps closer. The light catches on the sleek surface of his mask; there’s nothing behind it but darkness. His hand gestures once toward the entrance, or what I think might be the way out. “One. You walk out. Untouched. Unharmed. We let you go.” His pause stretches just long enough that I almost believe him.
Almost.
Then Adrian laughs, a soft, broken around the edges like the crack running through his mask. “Or,” he says, voice curling with warmth that doesn’t belong here, “you run.”