Something about the trust that Riven showed him only worsened the storm inside him.
When Riven opened his eyes again, Soren's expression darkened.
A sharp growl rumbled against Riven's ear.
"Keep those damn eyes shut."
The command was sharp, laced with an edge of frustration. Riven didn't dare disobey, though he didn't fully understand why the demand carried such weight.
Was Soren angry? No, the tone wasn't quite angry. It was something more complicated than that.
A twisted sense of irony bloomed in Riven's mind. Here he was, blindfolded just moments ago, and now Soren demanded he shut his eyes. It was almost funny how this man dictated even something as simple as when Riven could look at him.
But Riven, perceptive in his own way, sensed something else buried beneath Soren's words. That growl against his ear wasn't just frustration—it was something deeper, something unresolved.
Only Soren knew of his inner thoughts.
Soren didn't want Riven look at him.
