Zethan couldn't believe what he had just heard. The fact that she was so calm—too calm—only made his frustration spike. His chest tightened as something like jealousy clawed at his mind, raw and unrelenting.
Before Lilia could react, he moved. In an instant, he had maneuvered her, reversing their positions. His grip was firm but not harsh, his eyes darkening dangerously.
"Tell me, Lilia," he murmured, his voice low, rough. "Who did you practice with?"
His hand trembled slightly, his control hanging by a fragile thread.
The truth? She hadn't practiced with anyone. This was all part of her punishment—her way of teasing him, of making him realize just how much she had missed him. She wanted him to understand that leaving her without a word, without informing her himself, was unacceptable.
But she couldn't tell him that.
And the real reason she knew any of this? Evie.
