Page 139 of Revenant

Her floor length gown is stunning; it’s black as midnight, causing the deep blue of her irises to really stand out.

“Reyna, hey, are you going to the gala?” I ask, a little too eagerly. Jesus, I need to turn it down a notch.

“No, I just like to dress like this for fun.” Her sarcasm is duly noted, and I decide to make an effort with her once all of this is over. Being with the guys has been fun, but I do miss that sense of independence. Reyna’s eyes downcast for only a second, clocking the grimoire I’ve been clutching like a lifeline.

But she quickly recovers. “Assuming neither of you dress like this often, you’re also going as well.” She smiles, and I think it’s the first time since I met her I’ve seen anything other than a scowl on her face. Maybe this is just her sense of humor?

“Walk with me?” She strides between us as if she expects us to follow, commanding the hallway like it’s hers to own.

Moriah and I share a look and shrug our shoulders, silently saying, “what the fuck.” Maybe this is the universe telling us we’re about to turn a new leaf, that there’s nothing to worry about, and after tonight, everything will be exactly as it was meant to be.

42: Alicent

The entire walk I was anticipating a comment, a question, anything from Reyna about the grimoire. Perhaps she just assumed it was a really old textbook, but nothing ever came. I was teetering on the edge of anxiety because there was nothing I could’ve done to hide the damn thing. Even if she hadn’t seen it in the hall, it’s an eyesore. I mean, how am I supposed to explain why I’m carrying around a book that looks like it was made before paper was a thing?

Reyna didn’t stick around too long, and I’m thankful. The moment we got to the ballroom, she said something about seeing us later and dismissed herself. Which was a blessing, considering I’ve been wondering how we were going to get down to the lower level without her noticing.

Luckily, she made it easy for us.

Moriah guides us through the tunnels below the school, following the blueprint of the building until we’re in the space directly below the ballroom.

Fanning open the book, Moriah helps me arrange the candles the guys put down here earlier—precisely how the diagram in the grimoire shows.

Once I’m sure it’s perfect, I quickly tuck the grimoire behind a pipe and take a step back, ensuring if somebody wanders down here, it’s hidden from their sight.

I’m a little wary about leaving it down here unsupervised, but I can’t really dance with a book in my hands…and it’s not like anyone else can read it anyways.

However, when it comes to the mirror…there’s no way in hell I’m leaving it behind. It’s going to stay perfectly nestled inside my clutch, which will be glued to my side for the remainder of the evening.

“This is really happening,” Moriah states, looking around the room, almost as though she can’t believe it.

Honestly neither can I.

“It’s kind of crazy to think it’s all finally coming to fruition,” I admit, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. There are so many things that could go wrong, and I just hope there isn’t anything we’ve forgotten. I’ve read through the book countless times, and yet, I can’t shake the feeling there’s something we’re forgetting.

Moriah and I thankfully make it back to the main level unscathed, and for some reason, I’m beginning to feel…optimistic.

I’ve seen the ballroom a handful of times before. But never like this. Circular tables outline the dance floor, centerpieces spilling with wisteria, violet ropes cascading over crystal and half full champagne flutes scattered throughout. Waiters quietly float around the attendees, passing out drinks and finger foods, pretending it doesn’t sting when everyone pretends they’re nothing but a buzzing fly.

Women are adorned with elegant gowns that look like they should be presented in a museum, and black ties drop down the chests of the men in suits. But it’s not until a particular group of men come into view that I can finally breathe.

It’s as though the fog finally clears, the light from the crystal chandeliers focusing on them, casting a glow around the four of them like they were sent from the heavens.

Elias, Koen, Pryce, and Bastian’s eyes all settle on me, and it sets my soul ablaze. I carefully smooth down the silk, trying not to act like the attention doesn’t make me squirm, but I know my rapid heartbeat is a dead giveaway.

Moriah bumps my arm. “Go have fun. Enjoy tonight.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’ll catch up with you later. I need to find a drink and an eligible suitor for the evening. Maybe I’ll run into Julian again.” She engulfs me in a hug with more pressure than I was expecting. Then I lose her in the sea of people.

The crowd splits as if my presence alone forces them apart, and suddenly there’s nothing standing between me and the four most handsome men in the room.

“Tesoro, you look…otherworldly.” I smile up at Pryce. Noting the burgundy tie he chose to wear tonight, looking as dashing as ever.

“Ravishing,” Bastian coos, sipping his drink while his jade green eyes rake up my form—the slight brown around the rim barely noticeable. He’s dressed head to toe in black, the kind of fabric that catches the light only when he moves. No tie, just the top button left undone, like even his restraint has limits. The contrast between the classic devilish suit that contours his body and the tattoo that snakes past the collar and up his throat nearly detonates my resolve.

Fingers skate up my exposed arm, drawing my attention to Elias. There’s not a single icy blond strand out of place, looking the epitome of perfection—all while his amber iris screams all the things he wishes to do to me. “It’s my turn to have you tonight, and in that color, I might not survive it.”