Ravenna's POV
It was Lucien's voice. Low, rough, but cutting through the silence like steel.
I turned, my chest tight. He was there in the doorway, seated in his wheelchair, one hand balanced on the armrest, the other holding his ever-present laptop. His eyes, cold and unreadable, flicked over me.
"Do you make it a habit to sneak up on people at night?" I muttered, recovering quickly as I poured the hot water into the teapot.
"Do you make it a habit to look like you're running away?" His reply was quiet, almost lazy, but sharp enough to sting as it lingered in the air.
I pressed my lips together and ignored him, forcing myself to focus on the tea leaves slowly unfurling in the water.
When I finally sat down at the table, he moved closer without a word. He set the laptop
