"You really are a cruel man."
The voice came from behind him.
Deep.
Calm.
And carrying absolutely none of the sympathy the words themselves might have suggested.
Lucavion had already sensed the approach.
Caeden's presence was difficult to miss even when he tried to suppress it. At the moment, he wasn't trying at all. His mana sat heavily around his frame, dense and settled, while the steady rhythm of his steps announced a man who had apparently finished whatever the Academy had thrown at him and still possessed enough energy to remain upright.
Lucavion glanced over his shoulder.
Caeden Roark approached from the residential path with his training coat folded over one arm. The collar of his shirt sat slightly loose, and a faint sheen of sweat remained near his temples.
Lucavion smiled.
"Cruel?"
Caeden's gaze moved past him.
Toven remained frozen several steps away.
