His hand slid lower on my hip, and I forgot how to inhale. I caught glimpses of us in the mirrors—two phantoms, caught mid-spin. The fox and his prey. The black swan and her shadow. Our steps slowed and Preston used his free hand, the one that wasn’t holding mine, to lift off his mask. Then, gently, he did the same with mine, letting both fall to the frozen ground.
Our faces were left bare in the moonlight. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a long box wrapped in green velvet, placing it in my hands.
My heart faltered. Was he giving me a gift? My fingers trembled as I held it, and the breath I drew in was shaky.
“What is this?” I asked, my voice dry and brittle, my throat tight.
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” His tone was warm, almost amused.
I wet my lips and slowly lifted the lid. Inside, nestled like a secret, was a necklace of gold and emerald. A green pendant shimmered at its centre, like it had been plucked from the heart of a forest. I stared, struck silent.
“Why are you giving me this?” The words tumbled out.
Preston blinked, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. “I already said?—”
“Yes,” I interrupted. He had. But people don’t give each other gifts like this…not to someone they hate.
He smiled, softer this time. “The beautiful thing about gifts, poison,” he said, lifting the necklace with delicate fingers, “is that you don’t have to understand them. You just have to accept them.”
He stepped behind me and placed it around my neck. The pendant settled against my skin like a second heartbeat. His sleeve shifted, and I caught a glint of my bracelet fastened around his wrist. The butterflies flew harder in my stomach. But something else caught my attention as well. A golden ring with a green crystal embedded into its centre was resting on his little finger. Since when did he have a ring?
“Do you remember what you said after I pulled you from the river?” His warm breath tickled my ear, pulling me from my wander.
“You mean when you followed me into the woods?” I swallowed, my chest burning from the inside.
“And saved your life?” A pause. “For the first time.”
I noticed he didn’t deny following me. I rolled my eyes at the dark sky. “I said a lot of things then.”
“You did.” He didn’t touch me, but I could feel him everywhere, like air. “But you also said that there are very few things that deserve your tears.”
I nodded, remembering my words. I meant them still.
“Promise me you’ll never waste them on me.”
At first, I thought he was joking, but there was seriousness in his tone. And when I didn’t answer instantly, instead of mocking, it was silence that followed his words.
“Why would I cry for you?” My voice cracked, despite my best effort. My brows knotted. I turned around, forcing us to faceeach other. Even though he sounded like it, Preston didn’t look any different. He lifted a hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Will you promise me?” he asked again, even softer. Like a plea.
Something was off. I just didn’t know what it was. I sighed.
“I promise. Although, I really don’t think you need reassurance. It’s fairly obvious I won’t.”
A crooked smile bloomed on his lips like it made him truly happy to hear that. He stepped past me, already moving away.
“Preston,” I called his name and he froze, turning around. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow, then the smile returned, smug and irreverent. “The first time you say my name and you choose this moment? You really don’t want me to enjoy life, do you, poison?”
I grimaced, tension ebbing away. He looked the same, so why did he feel so different? Why did a lump grow in my chest at the sight of him leaving?
“Why do you keep calling me poison?” I asked.
He tilted his head, then motioned towards me with one of his long fingers, something shifting in his gaze. “Come here.” There was something new in his voice. Something dangerous.
I stepped forward, letting my curiosity take control. He raised his hand and brushed my bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes darkening.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he murmured, leaning close, forcing my chin higher. “You’re poisonous, heiress. You’re the fruit no one should touch…and yet, everyone still wants a taste.”
