They froze mid-strike, like predators catching the scent of prey.
Oh s**t.
My whole body went rigid, my nails digging into my palms. It was impossible not to know what they’d caught—what I’d given away without meaning to. The air between us thickened, almost alive with the heat of it.
Daemon’s smirk came first. Slow. Wicked. His lip split from Draven’s earlier blow, but he still licked the blood from his mouth like the taste only amused him. “Well, well…” His voice carried easily across the training ground, teasing, cruel. “Look what we have here.”
Draven’s expression was darker, harder to read. His chest rose and fell in steady, controlled breaths, though his gaze pinned me like a weight, silver irises flickering with something sharp, hunger, restraint, maybe both.
Darius didn’t spea
