SELIN'S POV.
I tried to leave the room like nothing was wrong.
Chin up. Shoulders squared. Walk like you're fine, even when you're not. Except every step down the hallway felt…wrong. Like I had left a piece of myself behind in his room. I kept replaying the way he looked when I closed the door. Thsy calm on the surface but something raging underneath. A storm with no escape.
I hated that I cared. No. I didn't hate it. I hated pretending I didn't.
I wrapped Draven's cloak tighter around myself—
yes, I still stole it, and no, I wasn't giving it back, and tried to push the ache away.
I headed toward the library, because that's what a logical person would do. Focus. Read. Distract. Breathe.
But when I got there, the room was weirdly silent. No sign of that smug assistant who usually hovered around like a mosquito. My chest tightened with unease. I didn't even get to take a step inside before a breathless boy ran up to me.
