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... one, red team one. Blue team eleven, red team eleven. It was at the moment when they each had seventeen chips, with a total of thirty four coming out when Alan opened his mouth.

“Now, one of the boxes doesn’t have any more chips.”

The participants just heard that as a declaration. Alan looked at Jacob.

“Jacob. Do you think that your team will win?”

“Yes.”

“And what’s the reason for you to be saying that?”

“I believe in my teammates.”

“Do yo ...

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

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She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

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She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

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