Vivian breathed, feeling warmth return to her chest after holding her breath. The silence hung thick between them and this man—Victor, he called himself. Gwen stood rigid beside her, bow lowered but hand still near the quiver.
The man's purple eyes tracked between them, waiting. Blood continued trickling down his temple, but he didn't seem to care. Just stood there with that slight smile playing on his lips, like this whole situation amused him.
Vivian cleared her throat. "By the way, what were you saying about the lord of this place—"
"Mother, stop." Gwen's hand clamped around her wrist, tight enough to hurt. "We should not—"
But the words hung in the air anyway, and Vivian saw something shift in Victor's expression. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying them more carefully now. Really looking at them.
