Chapter 88

• Zara’s POV
• The chandeliers above glowed with soft golden light, reflecting off every white outfit in the room. Students twirled and swayed in coordinated rhythm, their laughter blending with the melody. I was caught in it too, Zarek’s hand warm and steady against the small of my back, his other gripping my hand as though he owned it.
• I tried not to notice the way his smirk grew with every step I matched. He wasn’t just dancing—he was staking a claim. His hold wasn’t crushing, but it was firm enough to remind me that the end of this dance meant something more.