That predatory, self-satisfied smile that had haunted her dreams, the one that never reached his eyes, the one that said he knew something she didn't, that he was still in control even when everything suggested otherwise.
For a moment, as she stared at Percivus and Percivus stared at her, Jocelynn was struck by the feeling that this was all some kind of sick act. That Percivus was waiting here to torture her, and that Owain had just delivered her into the Inquisitor's lair, even though he was the one who was bound, chained, gagged, and hanging from the ceiling like a fish hanging from a line.
Jocelynn stepped back involuntarily, her body reacting before her mind could process, as though she'd been physically struck by the weight of the Inquisitor's gaze. The sudden movement made her stumble slightly, and she would have fallen if not for Owain's arm around her waist, catching her, steadying her.
