"Yo."
Elara stiffened, her boots striking stone half a beat too hard.
"What?" The word slipped before she could smooth it.
When had he fallen into step beside her? She had been watching—she always watched. And yet he was simply there, black eyes glinting as though they had been walking together all along.
'My senses… dulled? Impossible.'
Eveline's training had carved that weakness out of her. A mage of her caliber was never unaware. Never caught off guard. Yet her skin prickled as if the boy had slipped through seams she hadn't known existed.
Lucavion raised one brow, head tilting with a mockery of surprise. "You're here?"
"…" Her silence was blade-thin, but it did nothing to cut through the absurdity of the question.
Elara exhaled once, steadying herself, then gave the barest nod. "Lucavion." The syllables were clean, measured, not quite a greeting but not a dismissal either.
Her gaze narrowed, violet eyes finding the edges of his face in sharp focus. 'Why here? Why me?'
