ERIS
The corridors were quiet when I left the garden. Too quiet. The kind of silence that makes every step sound like a confession.
My pulse hadn't quite recovered, and my skin still hummed where his lips had touched me, a faint, traitorous ache that refused to fade no matter how many deep breaths I took. Every brush of fabric against my leg reminded me of the coolness of his mouth, the audacity of him kneeling there, kissing me like worship.
I hated how alive it made me feel.
The torchlights flickered as I walked, shadows dancing across the marble. I kept my head high, pretending I wasn't unraveling inside. But the memory of Soren's face, that faint, smug curve of his mouth, the quiet triumph in his eyes, replayed again and again like a splinter lodged in my mind.
He thought he hid it well.
He didn't.
"Idiot," I muttered under my breath.
