Caught in her own swoon.
She has her palms on the table, doing her best to keep her expression neutral. But she’s panting lightly. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s a flash of embarrassment, and then recognition, and then…she laughs. “Wow,” she says, “I guess that still works.”
My vision goes red. I jump to my feet, my palms slamming down on the table.
“I will fucking end you!” I snarl.
Trinity gasps and quickly moves back.
I am no longer Ophelia. Or Ruby. I’m Artemis. I’m the huntress and Trinity is my prey, and I’m going to rip her limb from limb, and…fuck.
Is this what I’ve become?
Someone so consumed by anger that I lash out at another woman?
I step away from the table. I dig my fingers into my hair, walk a quick circle, and shut my eyes tightly. I try to focus on breathing, but my heart is pounding too fast, and my sigh just sounds like a growl.
I want to get on the floor. I want to put my head in Phantom’s lap. I want him to pet my hair, to anchor me, to tell me it’s going to be okay.
As if summoned?—
“Ophelia.” Phantom touches my arm, but I flinch back. I spin around and look at him. He looks startled by my reaction, but he doesn’t test me again, lowering his hand instead.
“You’re not mad at her,” he says. “You’re mad at me.”
“You’re fucking right I’m mad at you!” I seethe. I’m aware the people in the room are looking at us, but rage is boiling my blood and I can barely see straight. “She knowsGive.”
“Yes.” Phantom doesn’t budge. Everyone gives us space, but all I can see are his eyes. Those familiar, brown eyes.
“What else does she know?” I ask. “Is there anything that’s just mine?”
The muscle in his jaw flexes, but he doesn’t respond. It’s all the answer I need.
I swallow. The backs of my eyes sting. “Sometimes, you make me feel like I’m everything to you. Other times, I feel like I’m just your Friday bitch. So which is it?”
“Ophelia—”
“Fuck it. Forget it.” I sniff. I address the crowd of Seekers, who have stopped their interviews to stare at us. “Ignore me! I’mjust…hysterical, drama-queen Ophelia. Again. Sorry for ruining Valentine’s Day?—”
I turn my back to him. I start to leave, when I hear behind me, quiet yet strong:
“Marry me.”
I freeze on the spot.
No. Absolutely not. No way I heard that right.
He didn’t. He wouldn’t.
Would he?
Slowly, I turn around. “What?”
Phantom stands there. “You want one command that’s all yours. Something I’ve never given anyone else.” He gets down on a knee. “Marry me.”
My heart pounds. My throat goes tight, and I can’t speak.
I watch as a flicker of nervousness enters his expression. When he sees me hesitate, he shifts. Not to rise. To lower. He drops from one knee down to two. On both knees now, he begs, “Marry me, Ophelia.”
