Aeliana barely had time to process the dull ache of her wound before Lucian's voice cut through the tense air like a blade.
"Move aside. Let me console her."
His tone was sharp, edged with frustration, and he stepped forward as if to physically push Riven away.
But Riven didn't budge. Instead, he scoffed, golden eyes glinting with something between amusement and challenge. "It's not my fault I got to her first."
Lucian's jaw clenched. "You're in my way."
Riven smirked. "Am I? Or are you just upset that you weren't paying enough attention?"
The words struck deep, and for a second, Aeliana saw something flicker across Lucian's face—guilt, frustration, something raw and unspoken. He took another step forward, fists clenched, but before the tension could snap into something worse, a loud groan interrupted them.
"Guys, stop."