"I don't want those people to disappear."
The words settled like stone.
Selenne didn't move.
But her mind shifted—tilted, just slightly—at the weight of his words.
"I don't want those people to disappear."
What did he mean by that?
Her lips parted, then closed again. Not because she lacked something to say—no, there were a dozen responses lined and ready. But none of them felt precise enough to pierce through the strange, heavy quiet he'd left hanging in the air.
And stranger still—
That look in his eyes. That pitch-black steadiness that didn't flinch, didn't search, didn't beg.
It knew.
It unsettled her.
Not because it was dangerous.
But because it was familiar.
Too familiar.
