>>Aelin
Ariston's calm defiance stood in stark contrast to Draegon's fiery rage.
The room seemed to hold its breath as Draegon charged toward us, but before he could reach us, a figure darted into view—Ruoxy. She sprinted after Draegon and grabbed his arm with both hands, her voice urgent and commanding.
"Draegon, stop!" she cried, her grip unyielding.
Draegon's muscles tensed, and he tried to shake her off, his growl low and menacing. "Let go!!" For a moment it looked like there was hatred filled in his expressions.
"No!" Ruoxy insisted, tightening her hold and digging her heels into the ground to anchor herself. "You're not thinking clearly!"
For a moment, it looked as though Draegon would fling her off, his movements wild and unpredictable. But then, abruptly, something shifted. Draegon froze in place, his expression softening as if a switch had been flipped. The anger that had consumed him moments ago drained away, replaced by an eerie calmness.
!?!?
