DEXTERA
Deucalion realized I wouldn't say a word and let me be. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he huffed at my stubbornness.
“Since you won’t talk,” he uttered in a clipped tone, “go prepare two cups of civet coffee.”
He turned swiftly on his heel, heading toward Thor’s room without sparing me another glance. On instinct, my hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
Was I scared for him? How foolish! He's been Thor's Beta for decades before they knew someone like me existed.
He stopped, stiffening slightly beneath my touch. For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at me.The kind of look that made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
There was something in his gaze—curiosity, maybe. Disappointment. It was a flicker of something deeper I couldn’t place.
