Zarek didn't answer her immediately, he just looked at her.
Up close, there was no mistaking how inhumanly beautiful he was and how dangerous that beauty felt.
His eyes were what held her.
They were deep gold, with flashes of red burning low, like embers buried under ash. Eyes that had seen centuries of blood, loyalty, betrayal, desire. Eyes that had ruled, destroyed, protected. And right now, those eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.
"You think I don't care?" he asked.
Eliora didn't flinch. "I think you do what you want," she replied. "And the rest of us adjust."
Something flickered across his face...hurt, then it vanished.
His fingers curled against the table. "You're wrong," he said.
"Am I?" She responded.
He looked at her face, lingering on her eyes, the shape of her lips, and her stiff shoulders.
"You ignore me," he said. "You sit beside me like I'm nothing and still you ask why it matters."
Her voice softened. "Because it hurts."
