Eldur's POV
Nova was quiet.
Too quiet.
That wasn't her usual brand of silence either—not the kind where her thoughts brewed behind her eyes like morning coffee, warm and rich and full of unspoken ideas. No. This was the brittle silence. Like glass balancing on a shelf. One wrong word and it would shatter.
I glanced sideways at her as we walked. She clutched her flyer folder like it was a sacred text, her grip just a little too tight, her steps slightly too fast.
Jeremy.
That filthy sack of human-shaped garbage had rattled her. And I didn't like that one bit.
"Are you okay?" I asked, gently, more gently than I usually manage. I even tilted my head and softened my voice, which was hard because softness wasn't really in my nature. I was more of a lightning-strike-in-the-middle-of-a-snowstorm kind of guy.
Nova blinked at the sidewalk. "Yeah," she said too quickly. "I'm fine."
She wouldn't even look at me.