"What are you saying?" I asked, my voice sharp and confused. Raven’s brows furrowed deeply, her eyes narrowing like she was studying me—no, searching for something. Her stare wasn’t just casual. It was intense, like she was trying to read my soul and the chaos swirling within it. "What?" I asked again, my voice low this time, cautious. "What is it?" She blinked, shook her head, and looked away. "Nothing," she muttered. But it wasn’t nothing. It was something. I just didn’t know what. And that made me want to know even more. The tray of half-eaten breakfast sat beside me on the table, forgotten. I reached out and dropped my fork on it with a soft clink. Raven took that as her cue to collect it. But something in me rebelled. Some wild, unfamiliar instinct screamed that I didn’t want her to walk away. Not yet. Not now. So I reached out. My fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her mid-step. She turned slowly, surprise flickering in her gaze. The moment our skin touch
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