Don't make the same mistake twice.

Rolan was pacing once more.

Not peaceful, thoughtful pacing—but stalking. Like a caged animal. Shoulders rolled up, jaw locked so hard it seemed to hurt. His boots thudded against the floor with resolve, as if each step was meant to hammer down whatever storm was raging in his mind.

Rose said nothing. She didn't need to. Every abrupt change, every dark glare hurled into the air told everything.

Zara tried it. Again.

"Okay," she said, too bubbly by half for the atmosphere, "I propose we do a five-minute feelings check and then stuff chocolate until someone gets a sugar high."

No one responded to her.

Rolan stopped pacing long enough to shoot a glare Damien's direction. "Got something smart to say, or are you gonna just keep smirking like a jackass?"

Damien refused to rise to the bait. He didn't even stop leaning against the nearest surface, arms crossed as though he had eternity. "Didn't know I needed permission to smile."