"Games are only dangerous when you don't know the rules. Lucky for me...I've never cared much for following them."
A laugh broke from her—short, sharp, and too surprised to be polished. It slipped past her lips before she could stop it, the sound carrying the edge of disbelief more than humor.
Is he serious?
Lucavion blinked at her, as if her reaction wasn't quite the one he'd expected. But then the corner of his mouth curved again, slowly, like a gambler watching his opponent toss down an unexpected hand.
"Well," Elara said, the word carrying a hint of something wry as she tilted her head slightly. "At least you're consistent."
His smirk deepened. "Consistently charming, you mean."
"No," she said, flat as slate. "Consistently infuriating."
Lucavion clutched his chest in mock pain. "Cruel. But fair."
