Adeline's smirk wavered.
Slightly.
It was subtle—so subtle most would miss it. A blink too long. A pause mid-step. Her pupils dilated just a fraction, and the smile she wore faltered beneath the veneer of control.
Because now that she was close—within five steps of her brother—she felt it.
That strange, subtle pressure.
Her body noticed it before her mind could frame it: her breath catching for a half-second, her shoulders bristling, something beneath her skin whispering a warning she couldn't explain.
What the hell…
She masked it instantly, but not fast enough. Her eyes narrowed faintly—not in anger, but in quiet recalibration. She studied Damien again, but this time not as a nuisance or an amusing variable.
There was a shift.
