So why was he being treated like some valuable specimen?
Before he could voice any of his concerns, Soran took a step forward.
Riven stiffened.
The dark-clad man held something in his hand—a long, thin black cane. The moment he raised it, Riven instinctively flinched.
But instead of pain, the smooth tip of the cane gently nudged beneath his chin, tilting his face upward.
The sudden contact made Riven shiver.
Shit.
His body reacted before his mind could process, his tongue darting out to wet his lips—a nervous habit.
Soran's sharp eyes darkened slightly at the movement.
Riven mentally screamed.
I'm afraid I'm into this.
"Hmm." Soran's head tilted ever so slightly, as if studying him. "A very fine species indeed."
The way he said it made Riven feel like a prized object on display.
Then, just as suddenly as he had lifted Riven's chin, Soran withdrew his cane, stepping back.
The absence of contact left a strange void.
