*ZARA’S POV*
I found him standing by the wide glass window in the lounge, two glasses of something dark in his hand. The shadows from the chandelier above cast hard lines across his jaw, making him look both dangerous and tired. More tired than I’d ever seen him.
“Drink with me,” he said quietly, offering me one of the glasses without turning.
I hesitated. He barely spoke to me these days unless it was about security, movement schedules, or updated rules. This—this strange vulnerability—felt foreign. Still, I took the glass.
He took a long sip of his own before finally looking at me. “Sit.”
I sat, cautiously. My fingers circled the stem of the glass, but I didn’t drink.
He chuckled, low and dry. “You still don’t trust me.”
“I didn’t say that,” I muttered.
“You didn’t have t
