Sylvianne’s POV:
“Sebastian…” I repeated his name. For a brief, fleeting moment, I saw the hard lines around his crystalline blue eyes soften. He nodded almost imperceptibly, then, with a gentle motion, he finally released my wrist.
I winced as his fingers uncurled, pulling away. My gaze immediately dropped to my wrists, now free, but marked by angry red welts and faint purple bruises where the cuffs had dug into my skin.
I couldn’t help but frown. “Was kidnapping me really necessary, though?” I questioned, my voice laced with a touch of indignation, even as I rubbed my bruised skin. My gaze met his.
Bastian sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of years. He moved around the room with an almost ethereal grace, his dark purple robes flowing around him, rustling s
