Silena's breath hitched.
She hadn't expected that.
Her eyes flicked to Sylene just as he buried his face deeper into Melchior's sleeve, fingers clutching the fabric. Melchior's hand moved instinctively, fingers threading through silver hair, rubbing slowly—soothing, protective.
She had miscalculated.
Badly.
"Oh…" Silena murmured, color draining from her face. "I—I see."
She forced a laugh, brittle at the edges.
"Well… I should return. M-my father is calling me."
Melchior almost let it end there.
Almost.
A part of him wanted to prolong this—in subtle way. To shame her properly. To let the weight of what she'd done settle in. She had touched his hybrid. Struck him. Had the audacity to demand he change the name Melchior himself had given, all because it resembled hers.
He could not be too domineering in human territory.
But subtle pressure?
That, he could still apply.
He moved, just slightly—until fingers curled into his sleeve.
