Dalia's POV
Psychology had always fascinated me, especially the power of visual deception. When father trained Darius and me as warriors, he drilled into us the importance of misdirection. The world wasn't painted in absolutes of black and white. There were countless shades of gray we'd navigate someday, and survival depended on our ability to read between the lines.
My stomach churned as I watched Darius demolish his chicken sandwich without a care in the world. Food was the last thing on my mind right now.
"You stress too much," he mumbled through a mouthful of bread and meat. "Eat something already. If you're not going to touch that steak, hand it over." His greedy fingers reached toward my untouched plate.
Orion's hand shot out, smacking Darius's away with more force than necessary. "Back off. She needs to eat."
