Page 131 of The Fake Divination Offense
Anger darkens his expression. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. You’remine, Bel, and I’m not letting—”
“Don’t youdareuse that against me like this.”
I stop, panting, and the fury in Bel’s face shifts into hurt.
This is the line. Fuck,thisis the line, the one I’m always terrified I’ll cross.
All the fight drains out of me.
“Shit. Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” I tug on him, and to my surprise and relief and complete unworthiness, he relents and drops against my chest. I bundle my arms around him and bury my nose in his curls, eyes stinging from the release of fear. No, of outrightterrorat the thought of him being the center of this ritual.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, my throat trying to choke off the words I know I need to say. “If you—shit. If you really want to do this. We can figure it out.”
His arms come around my hips, his head turning to tuck against my face.
For this beat, holding him, everything else softens.
The stiffness in my muscles from pushing so hard in training. The knots along the back of my neck from sleeping like shit and poring over research rather than going to bed. The determined tug in the base of my stomach that tells me I’m not doing enough; Bel’s going to get taken from me and nothing I do will stop it.
“I want to finish this, too,” he says. “I never thought itwouldbe finished, that I might actually get to see my—” He cuts himself off.
I put the picture of him with his cousins in a frame. It’s enchanted so we can hide it if needed, but it sits on the table next to Bel’s side of the bed—right in front of Emma Stone, which Bel did insist on keeping, as well as the fireball potion I gave him after our smash room date.
My chest aches with wanting, and I can’t even imagine how muchhemust ache for it, too.
“You’ve given me hope, Orok,” he whispers. “I know it might not work. Iknowthat. But I want to try.”
I constrict my hold on him. “It’ll kill me if you get hurt.”
“Then we make sure he doesn’t get hurt,” Thio says.
Reminding me that we have an audience.
I meet Thio’s eyes, knowing mine are desperate. “We will,” I say, immutable.
Seb takes Thio’s hand. “That’s our top priority. Everything about this is to keep Bel safe. You know we’ll have his back.”
I drop a kiss to Bel’s head and hold there, breathing him in, and let my fingers brush over his pearl security necklace, his illusion magic covering it.
Gods, I want him safe. I want this over.
He looks up at me. And, for a moment, I see in his eyes all the stuff he’s avoiding. His own stresses that, no matter how hard I try to bear them all, still weigh on him.
A smile forces its way across his face. “Now,” he exhales, “can we eat, please? Because I’d really like to go to bed with a rawball champion tonight, and you can’t give me that if you pass out from hunger. Plus, if youdopass out from hunger, I’ll have to handle your parents after the game alone. Don’t do that to me.”
I huff. “I’d never subject you to that, I promise. But you’vealreadybeen going to bed with a rawball champion.”
It’s really never felt that way, though. Winning this game would be so much more impactful than winning for the Chimeras ever was.
Bel hums, lips pursing. “Nah, that doesn’t count,” he says, a close enough echo of my own thoughts that my smile gets truer. “Thisone counts, with a team that matters.”
He wriggles out of my arms and sashays to the other side of the table.
“Bring me that win,” Bel adds, “or I’ll have to find someone on the Dragons to go to bed with.”
I bark a laugh.
