96
Mason's POV
I had always been able to read Bethany like an open book.
Fear had a scent, a weight in the air, a tremor in a person's breath that couldn't be faked. I knew exactly what she looked like when she was scared—when she shrank into herself, her eyes wide but defiant, her lips pressed together like she was trying not to scream.
But lately?
Something was off .
She was still playing the part—flinching at the right moments, bowing her head when I spoke, keeping her voice soft and hesitant. She was careful, like someone trying to walk across thin ice without falling through.
But the problem was...
She wasn't really afraid.
Not like before.
And that? That didn't sit well with me.
So I tested her.
Small things at first. A sudden movement, a sharp step in her direction, a low warning whispered just beside her ear when no one else was listening.
And each time, she reacted the way she was supposed to.