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... walked outside.

"Forget it." Wu Junyan didn't want to be ordered around by Chen Qingyuan, and refused without hesitation: "You are too cunning, and spending too much time with you is easy to be fooled."

"I'm not that kind of person." Chen Qingyuan pretended to be angry.

This was not the first time Wu Junyan had met Chen Qingyuan, and he was already familiar with Chen Qingyuan's temperament, not to be deceived by his appearance: "I'm leaving."

With these words, Wu ...

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

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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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His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

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

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

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.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.