Scarlette
I hide in the ladies’ powder room, my hands trembling as I grip the marble countertop. The bathroom is pretty and posh, all gold fixtures and hand-painted flowers on the walls. Something you can only feel comfortable with if you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.
Which I'm not.
Three hours into the ambassador’s party and the truth has finally sunk in.
This may be the world I'll soon be a part of...whether I like it or not. There’s no escape clause. No getting out of this. I’m not just engaged to Sheikh Lykan Qahiri, billionaire businessman. I’m engaged to a literal prince. A future king.
And royals don’t do trial engagements.
The ambassador’s words echo in my head. Royal engagements in Sharasa can only end with either a wedding or a beheading.
He’d laughed like it was a joke, but the look in Lykan’s eyes told me it wasn’t. Not entirely.
My phone buzzes against my hip. I pull it out, expecting a text from Grandma Jackie, but instead see Vaughn’s name on the screen. My heart gives a strange little twist. Not the desperate leap it used to make, but something more complicated.
I answer without thinking. “Hello?”
“Scar.” The stiffness of his voice is a startling contrast to how he usually speaks to me. “Do you have time to meet?”
In the past, I would have described his usual tone as casual confidence, but now?
“I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“It’s important.”
His tone has sharpened, almost as if he’s irritated that I’m not bending backward to accommodate him. Was he really just confident before...or had it been conceit all along, but I was just too infatuated to notice?
“We need to talk about your engagement.”
“Why?” I hate how my voice has started to shake, but I can’t help it.
“What do you mean why?”
“Just that.” Because I’m suddenly tired of pretending. Just tired of ignoring the elephant in the room, which has everything to do with my feelings, not his.
“Why are you treating me like I’m the enemy?”
The confrontational edge of his voice makes me flinch, and I start to tell him to just forget it...but catch myself in time.
“I’m sorry if that’s how I’m coming across, but it’s not that, I promise.”
It’s my first time to stand up to him. Of sorts. And I wonder if it’s because of the Lykan Qahiri Syndrome at work again.
“I just want to know what’s there to talk about...since it’s my engagement, not yours.”
A part of me is already expecting him to say something nasty or hang up. But instead, all I hear is silence, and I find myself holding my breath...while hoping and praying that maybe, just maybe, this is finally it.
Please, oh please.
I’m not sure what I’m begging God for.
I just know I need Him right now.
“Because I’m your friend!”
And there it was.
Friend .
He’s always used that word, and I used to tell myself it’s because he’s just the type to be cautious. To really think things through before making a move. But now?
“A friend, huh?”
My voice cracks at the end, and I hear Vaughn swear.
“I’m sorry,” I hear myself say. “I have to go.”
“Wait, Scar—”
I don’t let him finish. I can’t. For the first time in my life, I hang up on Vaughn...because if I let this call continue just one second longer, I have this terrifying feeling I’ll start crying and never stop.
This is Your answer, God.
Isn’t it?
Vaughn is not for me, and while I know I can always trust that God has something better in store...why has no one ever warned me that His plans could sometimes break your heart?
I want to cry and laugh at the same time. I’ve spent years—literally years—hoping Vaughn would see me as more than a friend. Building my entire future around the possibility of us together. And now...
You’re just a friend to him, Scar.
Always was, always would be, and what’s even worse is how he’s always known this, too.
I can’t believe I was so blind, God.
I’ve always known Vaughn isn’t perfect. But it’s only now that I realized how he perfectly selfish he had been all these years, with how he’s enjoyed letting me pine after him...in full view of the entire town.
Was that all I was to him, God?
An ego trip?
A future with Vaughn was all I’ve ever dreamt of. It was like the sun my whole life revolved around. But now that I no longer have that...
I feel lost.
Adrift.
But at the same time, I feel...
I straighten my shoulders as I take one last look at my reflection. Smooth down my dress before stepping out of the ladies.
Oh .
The word finally comes to me the moment I see Lykan patiently waiting for me in the hallway, his broad shoulders leaning against the wall with casual grace that still manages to look regal.
Free , I think dizzily. My Vaughn-centric days may have come to an end, but it doesn’t have to mean my life is over—
Dark eyes narrow at me, and my heart skips a beat at the scorching intensity of his gaze.
Because of him.
“You took your time.”
“I’m sorry.” Lying isn’t ever an option, but I don’t it’s any smart either if I were to tell a royal sheikh from a powerful desert kingdom that I was preoccupied by another man.
He offers his arm, and it feels so terrifyingly natural to just curve my arm around his. If I don’t take extra care not to lower my guard, he might have me completely forgetting that this engagement of ours is pure insanity.
All eyes are on us when we return to the ballroom, but instead of leading us back to our table—
Huh?
“Please don’t tell me—”
“Then I won’t.”
Oh no.
I try digging my heels in, but this only has the sheikh’s lips curving in a smirk, and I look at him in horror.
“I don’t dance.”
“You do now.”
I don’t even have time to draw another breath, with the sheikh already swinging me into his arms, and oh, of course...
Of course the orchestra starts playing the moment we step into the dance floor.
Seriously?
Lykan's lips twitch when he sees the look on my face.
"Impressed?"
"Nope." Yes .
The sheikh only laughs, and I wish I could laugh, too, just to show him he's not getting under my skin.
But...how can I, with him drawing me even closer to his big, hard body while more and more people come to watch us like we're tonight's main performance?
“Is it like this for you all the time?" I blurt out.
“The parties?”
“The attention. It’s...unsettling.”
His hand on my lower back presses me closer. “Most people would say otherwise.”
“I know,” I admit. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. To each their own, you know?”
“But it’s not for you.” It’s not a question.
“It’s not...and I think you know that.”
“I do.”
His admission surprises me. I look up, finding his dark eyes already fixed on my face.
“So why then?” I ask helplessly. “Why does it really have to be me?”
Lykan’s thumb traces small circles against the small of my back, sending shivers up my spine. “You keep asking me these things, but you keep turning me down when I offer to show you why.”
Something reckless flares inside me. Maybe it’s the champagne. Maybe it’s the realization that my safe, predictable future with Vaughn was never going to happen. Or maybe, just maybe...it’s the way Lykan is looking at me like I’m the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen.
“Show me then,” I hear myself dare.
The words cause the sheikh to miss a step, and I choke back a laugh when I hear him swear under his breath.
Our gazes meet, his dark and glinting with something dangerous, while I...I’m not sure how I’m looking at him. I’m not sure about anything at all.
“What’s gotten into you?” the sheikh demands, his voice rough.
“ You .”
The sheikh stiffens against me, his fingers digging into my hip.
“You got into me,” I hear myself whisper.
Oh my goodness, what am I saying?
“You...confuse me. You frustrate me. And...and anger me.”
Is it possible to get drunk on heartbreak? The emotional whiplash of everything's that just happened has made me feel like I'm floating...and completely out of control.
“You," I find myself repeating again.
"What about me?"
"I n-never saw you coming.”
Just like I...never saw myself saying these things, and oh dear heavens, maybe I'm not drunk. Maybe it's worse, and I've simply lost my mind along with my heart, because...
Oh, why on earth am I curling my arms around his neck and actually moving closer to him than propriety allows?
"Careful, Ms. Hood."
Sheikh Qahiri’s hands settle on my waist as he slows us to a stop, two people lost in their own world in the middle of the dance floor.
"You know what they say about people playing with fire."
Around us, other couples continue to dance, some openly staring, women watching Lykan with envious eyes that make me suddenly, fiercely aware of how desirable he is.
“Is that a threat or a promise?"
"What do you think?"
"What do I think?" I echo his words as I lift my gaze to his, and what I see in his eyes–
"I think..."
It makes me finally understand why playing with fire–
"I think it's possible you’re the one I’ve been waiting for all this time."
–can be so dangerously addictive, with how the words have Lykan's fingers weaving through my hair even when I haven’t finished speaking.
Oh!
My lips part in a silent gasp as his grip turns feral and possessive. There’s something unexpected in his expression—a flash of vulnerability beneath the hunger that makes my heart squeeze.
“If I am that,” he asks in a low, fierce tone, “what then? What will it change?”
“Everything,” I whisper.
“And how will you know if I am that?”
I don’t know.
His face lowers toward mine, and I can feel his breath against my lips. The entire room seems to fade away, the music dimming, the other dancers disappearing. There’s only Lykan, his dark eyes consuming me, his hands holding me like he’ll never let go.
And as his mouth hovers just a breath away from mine, my phone suddenly rings, the sound jarring in the intimate bubble we’ve created. I unthinkingly pull it out from my pocket, and Lykan and I see the name on the screen at the same time.
Vaughn .