Azazel had barely pulled the chair closer to the dining table when Ava slipped into the seat beside him.
Her presence was soft yet lively, the faint scent of her jasmine-scented hair brushing against his senses as she settled down gracefully.
"Azazel," she called gently, tilting her head toward him, her voice carrying a warmth that brushed against his ear like a feather.
"Yes," Azazel responded, his tone calm, almost absentminded, though the subtle upward curve of his lips revealed he had heard her fully.
Ava's heart lifted at that simple reply, her smile blooming across her face as she glanced up to study his profile.
His features, sharp yet composed, caught the light in a way that made his dark eyes glimmer faintly.
She had something to say, something resting on the tip of her tongue, but before her courage could catch up with her words, the atmosphere shifted.
The quiet rhythm of the dining hall broke with the sudden creak of a door swinging open from the left.
