Nova's POV
Eldur kissed my hand in front of everyone. In front of everyone.
I replayed it a hundred times in my head, even after class ended. The way his eyes locked onto mine, like I was something rare and precious. Like he saw me. I don't care how dramatic that sounds—it's true. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn't just existing in someone else's world. I was chosen.
And by Eldur Daegon, of all people.
The same Eldur who usually glared at people for breathing too loud in the library. The same Eldur who once told a substitute teacher to "cease their pitiful droning" and then walked out like some sort of gothic warlock with a schedule. I mean, the man drinks black coffee like it's the blood of his enemies.
But when he looked at me… he turned soft. Not weak. Just… gentle. And that made it hit even harder.
