EMBER’S POV

The crowd murmurs agreement, curiosity rippling through the room.

Knox extends his hand toward me.

“Ember. Come here.”

Every eye in the ballroom turns to me.

My legs feel like they’re made of water. My heart is trying to escape through my ribcage.

But Knox is waiting, his hand outstretched, and I think about all the years I spent shrinking. Making myself smaller. Quieter. Less.

I think about dancing on tables at clubs. About screaming without caring who’s watching. About being unafraid and unashamed and unapologetically alive.

Knox makes me feel like I can be everything and anything I want to be.

So I walk.

The crowd parts...