Chapter 15 · The Perfect Mask

Kane’s hand locked around my wrist before I could reach the exit.

“Smile,” he said.

I looked at the cameras flashing through the glass wall. “Take your hand off me.”

“Not until you stop looking like you’re planning to murder the entire press room.”

“I am planning to murder the entire press room.”

His thumb pressed against the inside of my wrist. The contract mark under my skin burned in answer, sharp enough to make my fingers twitch. Kane felt it. Of course he did. He always felt everything now—the pain, the energy spikes, the ugly little secrets neither of us wanted to share.

His golden public smile never moved.

“Thirty seconds,” he murmured. “You walk out there, stand beside me, and pretend you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t pretend very well.”

“You’re a wanted traitor, Selah. You don’t get to be difficult in front of six hundred cameras.”

I yanked against his grip. “You dragged me here.”

“I saved you from being dragged into a Bureau cell.”

“Same leash. Better lighting.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second.

It should’ve been nothing. A mistake. A camera angle.