The Rose Society - Marie Lu Page 0,69

we all align with certain gemstones and gods, and those alignments influence our powers.” I take a deep breath. “I align with fear and fury. With passion. And with ambition.”

Magiano nods. “Well, I can certainly see that.” He smiles a little. “What do I align with?”

I look at him. “Are you asking me to guess?”

His smile widens, turning playful for an instant. “Yes, I suppose so. I’m curious what you think you know of me.”

“All right.” I straighten and lean back, taking in his face. The fire gives his skin a golden glow. I pretend to squint at him. “Hmm,” I murmur. “Prase quartz.”

“What?”

“Prase quartz. For Denarius, the angel of Greed.”

Magiano throws his head back and laughs. “Fair enough. What else?”

His laughter brings a trickle of warmth to me, and I find myself savoring it. I smile back. “Kunzite. The healing gem. For the god of Time.”

“Holy Aevietes?” Magiano raises an eyebrow and gives me a sly look.

“Yes.” I nod. “A thief must be both patient and impatient to be good, must have impeccable timing. Right?”

“Solid reasoning.” Magiano leans closer, then gives me a teasing look. His hand brushes against the edge of mine. “Go on, then.”

“Diamond,” I continue, unable to stop smiling. “For the goddess of Prosperity.”

He draws closer. There is no hint of wildness in his eyes. His lashes shine in the light, then lower. Suddenly I am aware of his breath warm against my cheeks. “And?” he murmurs.

“And … sapphire.” My voice fades into a whisper. “For the angel of Joy.”

“Joy?” Magiano smiles, gently this time.

“Yes.” I look down, overwhelmed by sudden sadness. “Because I can see so much of it in you.”

A warm hand tilts my chin back up. I find myself looking into Magiano’s golden eyes. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he leans toward me. I hear nothing around us but the crackle of the fire.

His lips touch my cheek. It is a soft, careful touch, one that brings a lump to my throat. His lips shift to brush against mine. Then his kiss deepens in earnest, and the strings of my heart pull taut. His hand shifts from my chin to cup my face, pulling me into him. I go willingly. One of his arms encircles my waist. The kiss goes on, as if he were reaching for something within, turning firmer until I’m forced to steady myself against the ground, lest he makes me fall over. A low, sweet sound comes from his throat. I bring a hand up to the back of his neck. Aside from the deep warmth of passion, my energy stays very, very still, and for the first time, I don’t miss it.

His lips finally break from mine. He brushes them against my cheeks once more, then against the line of my jaw, and then, finally, he pulls away. For a moment, all we can do is breathe. My heart thuds in my chest. The complete stillness of my energy is something I have never felt before. I am full of light. I am confused. A strange mix of guilt and wonder swims inside me.

The thought of ruling Kenettra with Enzo at my side—Enzo, who had saved me from certain death, who brought my powers out with a mere touch of his hand on my back, whose own fire awakened my ambitions—thrills me. So why am I here, this close to a boy who is not my prince? Why am I reacting in this way to his touch?

On the other side of the fire, Violetta’s eyes flick momentarily away from Sergio and toward me. She catches my gaze, then tilts her head once in Magiano’s direction before winking at me. She smiles a little. Suddenly, I realize why she left me alone with Magiano like this. I can’t help sharing in her smile. When did my little sister become so sneaky? I’ll have to ask her later how she knew that Magiano would take advantage of our moment alone. Hiding a laugh in my throat, I turn back to Magiano.

He is observing the ruined half of my face.

A cold wind hits me, and I suddenly blink away the haze of warmth and amusement that had enveloped me just moments earlier. My defenses go up. I lean away, and an edge returns to my voice. “Why do you look?” I mutter.

I half expect Magiano to tease me, spitting back one of his sarcastic phrases. But he doesn’t smile. “We are drawn to stories,” he says in a soft voice, “and every

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