Page 77 of Wicked Ends

“Lucien picked it out.”

His eyes flash with jealousy. “Of course he did.”

We move in silence for a few beats, and I’m painfully aware of how many people are watching us. Drake and Lucien are nowhere to be seen, which is probably for the best. This moment feels fragile, like a bubble that could burst at any second.

“I’ve been thinking about the other night,” Ash says, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “In the woods.”

Heat rushes to my face. “Oh?”

“I don’t regret it.”

I look up at him, caught off guard by his directness. “Neither do I.”

His hand tightens at my waist. “Good.”

The music swells, and Ash guides me through a more complex series of steps. I follow without thinking, our bodies in perfect sync, as if we’ve danced together a thousand times before. It feels dangerous and right, all at once.

Then I turn to see Harry pushing through the crowd toward us.

Ash’s arm remains around my waist, not letting me step away. “What is it?”

Harry looks between us, confusion briefly crossing his face before he refocuses. “It’s Thorne. She’s missing.”

“What do you mean, missing?” I ask, though I already know, dread settling in my stomach like a stone.

“She said she’d meet Harry here. But that was hours ago, and no one’s seen her since. She wouldn’t miss the ball.” Harry seems genuinely distressed. “You guys aren’t exactly friends, but Harry thought maybe you’d seen her. Harry asked everyone else.”

I exchange a glance with Ash, who is perplexedly staring at Harry as he speaks. “I haven’t,” I say carefully. “But Harry, when did you last see her?”

“Harry saw her earlier today, we tried to get her to come to lunch, but she said she wasn’t going to eat until after tonight because of her dress.”

It is strange that Thorne isn’t here. I heard her myself, blabbering on and on about how her dress was going to be the best one at the ball. I may not like her, but the thought of her ending up like Ella is awful.

“We’ll help find her. Just try to keep this quiet for now, okay?”

Harry nods, looking relieved, then scurries away.

Ash’s grip on me tightens. “We need to talk,” he says. “All of us. Now.”

The bubble has burst. The magical evening is over, reality crashing back in like an unwelcome drunk uncle. Thorne is missing, and there’s a chance she might be the next victim of Jasmine’s bizarre appetites.

I take one last look around the transformed Great Hall, at the twinkling lights and the dancing couples, at the brief moment of normalcy we were given.

“Let’s go.”

Thirty-Five

Ash

Thorne missing isn’t just coincidence. It reeks of Jasmine. Rose keeps pace with me as find the others. I can feel her concern, her fear for someone she doesn’t even like. It’s one of the most irritating things about Rose, and it makes her vulnerable in ways I can’t protect her from.

I spot Lucien first. His eyes narrow when he sees us approaching, hand instinctively moving to block Rose as if I’m a threat. Fucking predictable.

Rose steps forward. “Thorne’s missing.”

Just those two words are enough. Lucien’s posture shifts, and he doesn’t waste time asking stupid questions.

Soren appears as if summoned by Rose. I’m still figuring out how he’s linked to Rose. There’s something there that’s more than what I can see on the surface. “Trouble?”