Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Bran?” I asked, appealing to him. “Please tell me—how do I look?”
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips.
“Why don’t you see for yourself, Emma?” he asked softly and nodded at the mirror over his dresser.
Steeling myself for the worst, I got up on shaky legs and crossed the room. I kept my eyes down on the carpet the whole way. Whatever way I looked now, I was probably stuck with it, I couldn’t help reminding myself. Whether I was ugly or back to my normal self, this was it—this was Emma now. I would have to learn to live with the face I saw in the mirror, no matter what it showed me.
I reached the dresser and looked down fixedly at the wooden top of it. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to be sick. What would I see when I looked up? What would I be like now and for the rest of my life?
I can’t look, I thought to myself. I can’t—I can’t!
“Emma, it’s all right,” Bran said behind me. “You can do this—be brave.”
Just as they had before Lachlan had lifted the geas, his words gave me courage. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at my reflection in the mirror…
And screamed.
33
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “That’s not me! That can’t be me!”
I said that because the most beautiful girl I had ever seen was staring back at me from the mirror.
If that sounds vain, please realize I’m not bragging—I actually felt like I was looking at a stranger. The girl looking back at me was nothing like how I had ever imagined myself—even in my wildest daydreams.
Pale, creamy, almost translucent skin with hints of softest pink—what they call a “rose leaf complexion”—was the first thing I noticed. The girl also had the softest, fullest mouth with lips so lush any actress in Hollywood would have paid millions to get them. High, aristocratic cheekbones and clouds of raven black hair were the next things that drew my eyes. But speaking of eyes, those were probably the girl in the mirror’s most remarkable features.
They were purple.
And not just one shade of purple either—there were three concentric rings surrounding her pupils. The outer band was a rich, royal purple, the middle ring was violet and the ring closest to the black dot of the iris was the palest shade of lavender imaginable. And all three rings were shot through with streaks of purest gold.
Those strange and lovely eyes took the girl in the mirror from beautiful to bombshell. I’m sure you’ve probably heard some guys who are real assholes (pardon my language) ranking girls on a scale of one to ten. One being butt-ugly, supposedly, and ten being model-perfect. Well, the girl in the mirror blew that scale out of the water. As plain old Emma, I would have considered myself lucky to be a three or a four. This girl was like a twelve or maybe a twenty. I don’t know—she was just that gorgeous—she took your breath away.
Or she took mine away, at least. I put a hand to my throat as my breath caught there…and the girl in the mirror did the same thing. Frowning, I put up a hand to brush away a strand of hair that was bothering me and getting in my eyes—and the girl in the mirror did the same.
“You guys, this is weird,” I said uneasily. “She’s copying me.”
“That’s because she is you, little one.” Lachlan sounded amused.
“No. No way.” I shook my head and the girl in the mirror did the same.
“Yes,” Bran insisted, coming up beside me so that he, too, was featured in the reflection. Lachlan stood on my other side and we studied the mirror together.
“Look, this is just weird,” I said, frowning. The girl in the mirror frowned too, only on her, it was a charming, whimsical expression. In fact, every expression looked good on her. I drew my brows together and scowled and she did the same, but the angry expression made her look serious and sexy and altogether irresistible.
“This is your true face,” Bran told me softly. “If you study yourself, you can see some similarities to how you looked before the geas was lifted. The shape of your face…the straight line of your nose…the way your earlobes are so well-formed…
“You noticed my earlobes?” I demanded, raising an eyebrow at him.
His smooth tan skin turned a shade darker.
“I have been drawn to you from the first,” he admitted. “I confess I might have noticed more than I probably should about my lab partner.”
“And friend,” I pointed out.
“And friend.” He smiled. “Look at yourself again, Emma. But this time, look for the similarities and you’ll see your old face looking back at you.”
I did as he said and sure enough, everything suddenly clicked into place. It was like those old magic eye puzzles they used to have (my Mom still has a book of them) where you would stare at all the random colored dots until suddenly a picture would jump out at you.