Lital fed him again, the spoon hovering before his lips, her gaze steady as he accepted another bite.
And again, she followed with one for herself, the act a shared rhythm, each bite weaving them closer in the quiet.
It should have been sweet, tender even—a moment of connection.
It should have been romantic, the kind of intimacy born from shared history.
But Kael couldn't shake the feeling of being… watched.
Owned.
The tendrils, the shadows, her unwavering gaze—they held him in a way that felt both protective and possessive, a line blurred between care and control.
And yet, when she spoke next, her voice was so soft, so human, it caught him off guard, piercing through the unease like a ray of light.
"I'm not clinging to you," she said, without looking at him, her focus on the tray as she scooped another bite of pudding. "Not like you think."
Kael turned toward her, his brow furrowing slightly.
