(Elara's POV)
Cairon's gaze burned into me like a brand, sharp and unyielding. Even in the dim glow of the campfire, I could feel the weight of it pressing against my skin. There was something about the way he looked at me that unsettled me—like he wasn't seeing me at all, but something lurking beneath my flesh.
I clenched my hands into fists beneath the folds of my cloak. It was always like this. He studied me as though I were a puzzle he had yet to solve, and every time I thought I had a grasp on what he was thinking, he would shift, unpredictable as ever.
The fire crackled between us, throwing flickering shadows across his face, sharpening the hard lines of his jaw and the unreadable depths of his eyes.
I had long since stopped expecting warmth from him, but there was something different about tonight. A tension I couldn't quite place.
"You knew," I murmured, breaking the silence. "Didn't you?"
