Camila's POV
The orchestra played on, the haunting melody weaving through the ballroom, but my pulse drummed louder than the music.
Aiden was gone.
Sasha was gone.
And I was still here, in Nathaniel's arms, trapped in a dance I wasn't sure I knew how to escape.
I should have felt triumphant. I should have relished the way Aiden's expression had cracked, the way his fists had clenched at his sides. Instead, I felt… nothing.
Or maybe, I felt too much.
Nathaniel's grip on my waist hadn't loosened, and I was acutely aware of every point of contact between us—the way his fingers splayed against my back, the way his other hand held mine in a firm yet delicate grasp.
"You didn't have to say it like that," I muttered under my breath, still facing forward.
Nathaniel chuckled, low and deep. "Say what? That we're engaged?" He leaned in, his breath grazing my ear. "You were the one who agreed to it, sweetheart."
