“Do you think we can darken her eyebrows?” I ask Daphne, eager. “To match her hair more?” “Oh, good idea!” Daphne says, and then gets started. Excited, I jump off the bed as Daphne ushers Juniper over to my vanity. Very quickly Daphne loosely pins Juniper’s hair up and then uses a very light bit o
I beam in particular at the thought of Daphne, who envisioned me in this dress tonight. Daphne, my dear friend who knows the intricacies of my story, and my personality, so completely that she…made this dress. And instantly, I know that she made it. And that she made it for me. Because it fits lik
Downstairs, where we all gather by the door and wait for the cars to come around to the front of the palace, is the best kind of chaos. I’m beaming ear-to-ear, a cheeseburger in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, as I chat with my family, greeting everyone and exchanging compliments.
Jacks sighs and deftly takes the glass from me, setting it on a table by his side as he speaks. “Luca doesn’t want me to come,” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh, Luca won’t even know you’re there,” I say, waving a hand to dismiss the idea. “Seriously, Jacks –“ “No, seriously, Ariel,” he
I frown a little, looking Jackson over, wondering what his plans are. I mean, he’s dressed – he’s got a coat. If he was just going back to his room, he’d be in pajamas, wouldn’t he? “I’m going to go watch the fight in a bar,” he says, nodding to me. “Actually, the one I used to work at – I’m going
And even if a little piece of my attention will be at some restaurant bar downtown, baring my teeth at waitresses…well, Luca doesn’t need to know that, does he? “He’s too good, that boy,” mom says, unable to help a little glance over her shoulder back towards the palace, to where Jackson is presum
“I should probably know more about boxing,” I murmur to Rafe, at my side, as we get out of the car to the flashes and the shouts of the paparazzi. My handsome brother laughs warmly down at me, offering his arm. “Yes, you probably should,” he murmurs. “Considering who you’re mated to. What do you k
“He is?” I ask, my eyes going wide. I pass my drink back to Jesse for a moment and slip my jacket from my shoulders, suddenly feeling warmer, probably from the anxiety his words produced. “Yup,” Jesse says, nodding to me seriously. “The Atalaxians have apparently brought one hell of a fighter.”