The Trial of Gods

Silence stretched between us as the boy had once again started a staring contest.

Noah stood firm, his hazel eyes burning with determination, as if already knowing that I had no choice but to agree.

This brat, I swear to god.

I once again ran a hand through my graying hair, sighing deeply. "Do you even understand what you're asking for?"

His lips curled into that same infuriating smirk. "Oh? Should I say 'please' to make it easier for you?"

Sylvie shot him a warning look, but he didn't waver. His gaze stayed locked onto mine, unwavering, unyielding.

It was strange.

The Noah I had known as a child had always been so cheerful, emotional—so painfully soft-hearted that I had feared for his survival.

But the Noah standing before me now?

There was no hesitation in him.

No fear.

Just pure, determination.