AS night settled into darkness, they finally arrived at the Psycheberg manor. Emperor Kallixto dismounted first, landing gracefully on the ground before turning toward Thalia. He extended his right hand to her, offering a gesture of gentleness.
“You must not let me wait for you to grab your waist and carry you down from the horse,” he nonchalantly remarked.
Thalia’s breath caught, panic rising at the weight of his words. Even in the dimness, her face burned with heat, his teasing catching her completely off guard. Flustered, she lowered her gaze briefly to his waiting hand, then lifted her eyes back to his. Without allowing herself another thought, she placed her hand in his. As she tried to hop down, gravity betrayed her — pulling her closer to him. Their gazes locked, the air between
