"I was on the mainland," she said pushing her knee against his leg. Eerikki evaluated her with cold gray eyes. They were flat like a river stone, his aristocratic face in a composed mask.
"Then explain why," his gaze flicks Vor, who takes a deep gulp of her wine staring openly at him unabashed, "She was pretending to be you."
The others ate slowly, eyes towards their plates, Rebekah struggled to not look at Zayne, who stood nearby, his fists clenched tightly. Baldor would keep him in line, hopefully.
"And why Blaine and August could not find you anywhere?" he trailed off when Rebekah took his hand, eyebrows coming together.
"Eerikki, are you trying to assume that I ran?" his lips pursed at her words, she brushed her lips on the back of his knuckles giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
