I lifted my eyes.
And there he was.
Varion still stood at the door opening. He looked the same as the last time I saw him—sun-gilded hair, immaculate posture, arrogance worn like a crown. For a heartbeat, I thought he hadn’t changed. But then I did see the little things that had changed about him, the lack of skin on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his skin lacked any color as if he hadn't been into the sunlight, ever since the day I had left Herion.
He looked… bad.
Our eyes met.
Held.
Shock flashed across his face, raw and unguarded, followed immediately by something else—relief. Joy. Possession. His lips parted as if he had forgotten how to breathe, and then his entire body shifted toward me, already moving, already claiming.
“Veyra—”
He strode forward, fast,
