Iris~~

Alone? With the Preeminence? I'd refuse, but it's not like I can refuse him.

I curtsy nowhere near as deep as the one I executed minutes ago. "Of course, Preeminence."

Erik heads down the hallway, and I . . . I step into the room with the Preeminence of all people in this world, of all people in this building even. He shuts the door behind me, but I choose to remain close to it. I don't know if I should take a seat, if I should speak first, or if I should flee.

The Preeminence steps around me and motions to the drink cart. "Wine?"

"No, thank you, Preeminence." I don't know if he knows about my Expiration Date. If he was curious about me, as Preeminence, surely, he has a way to find out everything about me.

He leans against the mantle of the unlit fireplace. "While I appreciate the respect, you don't have to end every sentence with my title. Imagine if I ended with your name every time, Miss Levine."

"Iris, please."

We don't take our eyes off each other.

"I told him not to bring you here."

Blood rushes to my ears and cheeks, and I duck my head to hide it. "Erik had his heart set on it."

"That answers my question as to whether or not you're together."

That brings my head up in time to witness his lips inching toward a smile. Our eyes meet again.

"What do you mean?" I step away from the door but not by much.

"If he cared about you, he wouldn't have brought you here."

"We're not dating, but why does bringing me here mean we aren't?"

"Two reasons." He takes his eyes off me to trace the stone curves in the mantel. "The first is because after his last girlfriend, Erik will never introduce another one to his family." Does that mean the Society had something to do with her death?

"And the second?"

He looks up and moves closer to me. "Isn't that obvious?"

I get a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I fight the urge to wrap my hand over my arm despite the sleeve covering my Mark. I debate backing away as he continues to cross the room.

"No, I'm afraid it's not," I force myself to say.

He stops less than a foot away from me. "Your grand secret."

"I don't have any grand secrets."

He takes my left hand in his and glides his other hand over mine, inching upward ever so slowly as if he's savoring the heart attack he's about to cause me. He stops over my Mark, and my breath hitches.

"We all have some sort of grand secret." His fingers are light, gentle—deadly. "Some are just grander than most." He has to be able to hear my heartbeat or even feel the pulse of it in my arm. Usually I can keep my heart calm.

"And, Preeminence, what is my grand secret?"

We both stare at his hand resting over my bandage. My secret is an impossibility. A fluke. Absurd. Can he really make the claim?

And is this really the moment before I die?

His fingers wrap around my wrist, but they're not tight. Rather, it's like he's enclosing them around something delicate. "You, Miss Iris Levine, are Expired."