"I didn't know. I just picked what I had."
Irina stared at him, her fiery eyes narrowing with suspicion. Those words—I just picked what I had—felt hollow, a flimsy excuse that didn't match up with the improbability of the situation. Not because she'd caught him slipping or because his face betrayed him, but because something in her gut told her it wasn't the whole truth.
And Irina Emberheart trusted her instincts.
She pushed back her chair and stood, walking toward him with deliberate steps. Astron remained where he was, leaning casually against the counter as he watched her approach. His sharp purple gaze followed her every move, calm and composed, but she noticed the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—amusement? Challenge? She couldn't quite place it, but it only fueled her determination.
Stopping just in front of him, she set her empty cup down on the counter with a sharp clink. "Refill," she said flatly, holding his gaze.
