The movement of Draven's finger stopped so abruptly it felt like the air inside the carriage had been cut off mid-breath. His lips lifted, forming an amused smile, and his eyes settled on the girl whose eyes were still squeezed shut. The faint tremor running through her shoulders didn't escape him.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low, threading through the small space between them like warm smoke. "What do you think I was trying to do?"
His chuckle followed, soft but edged with that maddening amusement that made Luna's skin prickle. It wasn't mocking, not exactly. It was worse—like he found her reaction endearing, and that made her feel even more exposed. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her face, tracing every twitch, every flicker of embarrassment she couldn't hide. Her heart thudded against her ribs, too fast, too loud in the confined silence.
