"What do you mean by new?" Caelen asked, one brow arching, his gaze narrowing on Eli.
Midas didn't speak. He only regarded Eli with those eyes, warm on the surface but pressing down like a silent weight. Somehow, that was worse than if he'd interrogated him outright.
Eli's throat tightened. His palms dampened as he stammered, "I—I mean…" He almost swallowed the words, the urge to take them back gnawing at him.
'God, what if they think I'm just talking out of my ass?'
But then Midas shifted ever so slightly, lifting a hand in a calm, encouraging gesture. "Tell us your thoughts," he said, voice smooth, unhurried. "I'm quite curious."
That made it worse.
Still, Eli pressed forward, rubbing awkwardly at his forearm, his words tumbling out.
