Lucian felt pressure in his skull as he walked forward.
He completely ignored Valerius, passing him as if he were nothing more than a shadow on the wall. His purple-fired gaze locked entirely onto the white cloth of the robe and the pale skin beneath it.
"I thought I told you to rest?" Lucian said. The words didn't carry his usual composure. They were raw, grating against his throat like gravel.
Adrian shifted his weight against the pillar, his jaw tightening as he looked back into the violet light. He parted his lips, his fingers twitching near his pockets as he prepared to argue, to throw the rejection back in the Director's face.
Lucian cut him off before the first syllable could form.
"Go rest, Adrian."
This time, the command dropped an octave. It lost its edge, turning thick, strained, and almost pleading. The raw desperation in the vibration of his voice hung heavy in the narrow bottleneck path.
