The moment Thalassa spotted Lysander entering the room, her heart skipped a beat, seizing up as if caught in a freeze frame.

Turning around, she found herself locked into Lysander's icy, profound gaze. His eyes were like two dark voids, capable of sucking in anyone's soul with their chilling depth.

A sudden stiffness took over Thalassa's body when she realized her hand, holding a teacup, was inches away from brushing against Callum's, who was also holding his cup. The proximity of their hands was unspokenly intimate.

She quickly withdrew her hand, glancing back at Lysander only to find his attention had already shifted away. His deep voice broke the silence, directed at Alaric, "Cut the random calls. If this happens again, you know the consequences."

With that, he wheeled himself away, leaving a tense atmosphere in his wake.

Thalassa really did go MIA for a while. How was I supposed to know she was just asleep at home?" Alaric's voice carried a mix of frustration and innocence, but it

had followed Lysander in, caught the tail end of the exchange. Feeling slightly awkward, he shot Alaric

was holding onto him. Alaric winced slightly at

almost fox-like allure. Her heart raced uncontrollably, thumping loudly as

help but notice how her

hand on his arm, a gesture usually reserved for couples. Her tight grasp sparked a

reflections of one's feelings, Alaric mused. Hertha's grip on his arm,

their posture. She quickly released her grip and scooted away, her gaze flitting away as she stammered, "Lysander's presence is

glanced sideways at Alaric, gauging

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