Aiden's eyes lingered on hers, searching, as if trying to read what was beneath her hesitation. "What do you mean, Moon," he asked, his voice low and calm, but with an undertone of quiet menace that sent a shiver down her spine.
Arwen's lashes remained fluttered shut for another second while her inner pain became palpable.
"Look at me, Moon," Aiden urged, his voice steady but firm. While it carried the gentleness to coax her, there was an unmistakable edge of impatience simmering beneath it.
At his words, Arwen's shoulders tensed a little. Slowly she opened her eyes, finally meeting his piercing gaze. The vulnerability in her expression made Aiden's chest tighten.
She drew in a shaky breath before finally confessing, "The mark on my cheek … it wasn't from them." She stared at him, even though it was hard to meet his gaze at the moment. Her heart was clenching, thinking what he would think if she told him it was her mother who slapped her.
