Page 666 of End Game

Ronan told me twenty was already enough to make the point.

I did not tell him he was right.

The final page isn't old. It's the only drawing I made specifically for tonight.

Dex's left hand rests loosely against mine, and around his ring finger is a black band.

Not a generic ring.

The ring.

Every detail is exactly the way I designed it—matte black, broad enough to suit his hand without looking heavy, with a narrow silver line circling the surface slightly off-center. And one small diamond-shaped etch.

A kite.

And a string.

Set into the metal is a tiny blue-green stone, flush enough that it catches light rather than demanding it.

Dex doesn't turn the page, not that there is another page.

His thumb traces the drawing. “What is this?”

My heart is pounding hard enough now that I can feel it in my throat.

I reach into my pocket and set the ring box on the counter.

The tiny sound it makes against the surface seems much louder than it should.

Dex looks at it.

Then at me.

“Shut the fuck up.”

I don't move.

His breathing becomes deeper. “Oh my God. Is this some elaborate Halloween bit?”

I keep staring at him.

His smile disappears, and Dex goes completely still.

I've watched that happen maybe five times in all the years I've known him. Silence doesn't come naturally to Dex. Something has to hit hard enough to knock the noise out of him.

His eyes move back to the box.

Then to me.

“Micah.”

I open it.

The real ring catches the kitchen light exactly the way I hoped it would.

Dex's mouth parts.

Nothing comes out.