'Then why didn't he say anything?'
Her heart thudded once, heavy and uneven.
He had known. He had to.
So either he had chosen to ignore her presence… or he had wanted her to see.
The possibility unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
She tried to reason it out, to fit it into something logical. Maybe his focus had been entirely on Priscilla—that could explain it. Maybe he'd sensed her but dismissed her as irrelevant. Maybe he hadn't cared.
But no—Lucavion didn't miss things. Not people, not details, not moments. His perception cut sharper than any blade she'd seen.
When she'd fought him, she'd realized that under the mockery and laziness, there was precision bordering on predatory. He wasn't just alert—he anticipated.
And if he had anticipated her being there…
Elara's hand slipped away from the wall. The corridor around her suddenly felt narrower, the air thinner.
'Was this… deliberate?' she thought. 'Did he bring me there on purpose?'
