>>Ariston
I stared at him, frozen, every part of me suddenly ice-cold.
"No," I said sharply, my voice lower than it should've been, harsher than I meant. "I'm not doing that."
I turned on my heel. The tavern door stood right there, an escape within reach.
Drakkar didn't stop me. Not physically. Not with his voice either.
He just leaned back against the bar, arms crossed again, that damn calm in his posture like he knew exactly how this would play out.
"It's your decision," he said casually. "I won't force anything on you."
I paused by the door, hand hovering over the worn wooden handle.
It was my decision. And I hated that.
The tavern had gone quiet behind me—too quiet. I could hear the crackle of the fire, the distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen, a faint wind blowing through the narrow cracks in the windows.
