"You hid it in your secret vault," I said flatly, crossing my arms firmly over my chest as I leaned back against the sunlit window bench, keeping my posture entirely relaxed despite the heavy book hidden just inches beneath my seat cushion. "And you bound it before leaving for the North using binding blood magic. Don't act like you suddenly forgot, Draven."
Draven's golden eyes widened in genuine, momentary shock. For a fraction of a second, the cold, impenetrable mask he wore every single day slipped completely, revealing a flash of sheer, unadulterated bewilderment underneath. A sudden, sharp breath caught in his throat, and a low, vicious curse escaped his lips in a harsh whisper.
He quickly cleared his throat, adjusting the high, dark collar of his tunic as he forced his features back into their usual impassive, stoic composure. He shifted his weight, refusing to meet my gaze directly.
I stared at him, rolling my eyes so hard it practically hurt.
