Kael stepped out of his room, towel still in hand, drying his damp hair. The soft lighting caught his features — glowing skin, delicate lashes, flushed cheeks from the steam — and for a second, Zayden forgot how to breathe.
He just stood there, eyes fixed on Kael, stunned.
But before he could gather his thoughts, Kael's voice cut through the silence.
"How's Elena?"
The question was quiet, calm — too calm. Zayden blinked, the name crashing into his thoughts like a wave.
"Elena...?" he repeated, unsure if he heard it right.
Kael's eyes stayed on him, unreadable. "You didn't say anything, not a word," he said, voice sharper this time. "I had to hear about your engagement from my brother."
Zayden's brows furrowed. "Wait, what?!" His voice was low, confused. "Kael… what are you trying to say?"
Kael let out a short, breathy laugh — not amused, but bitter. "Nothing. Forget it."
He turned to walk away, but Zayden reached out and caught his wrist.
"Hey! Tell me. What is it… please?" Zayden's voice was shaky, desperate. He gripped harder than he meant to — his fingers digging into Kael's skin.
Kael winced. "Zayden—let go."
Zayden looked down and immediately noticed the red mark forming under his fingers. Guilt flashed in his eyes as he let go, his hand trembling slightly.
Kael pulled back, rubbing his wrist. His voice was quieter now, but still firm.
"I'm asking about your fiancée, Zayden. Elena."
Zayden froze.
"My fiancée?" he repeated, like the word was foreign to him. His pupils dilated, breath caught.
"She isn't—"