"Yarina."
Yara's breath hitched, there was no way her luck was that bad, right? He couldn't be here.
She turned slowly, her heart thudding against her ribcage as she faced Damian. His sharp features were unmistakable, the same as the last time she had seen him during that fateful auction. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his eyes, a shade of stormy grey, softened with surprise.
"Yarina..." Damian's voice was gentle, layered with disbelief and something else—concern? His gaze drifted over her, noting the changes since their last encounter. He stepped closer, his hand instinctively reaching for a lock of her now longer hair. Right, she had had to cut her hair to escape from Kellan that night.
Yara tensed, instinctively stepping back.
Her eyes darted to Val, standing rigidly beside her. His face was a mask of fury, jaw clenched tight, golden eyes ablaze with a dragon's fire.