He saw it move in the specific, controlled, deliberate way that indicated her teeth were finding their coordinates.
He calculated the angle. The muscle tension in her jaw. The force she was capable of applying with the adrenaline of offense flooding through her.
His fingers pressed at the base of her skull — not harder, just differently. A specific pressure point. A controlled burst of kyno energy, not aggressive, not damaging, just a precise acceleration of neural fatigue — the equivalent of hitting a fast-forward on the exhaustion she was already carrying after four months alone in a pocket space surviving on converted ambient energy.
Her jaw stopped moving.
Her eyes didn't close immediately. They stayed on his face for one more second with the last functional fury she had — dark brown and clear and 'furious', the eyes of a woman making absolutely certain he registered that she knew exactly what he'd just done — and then they fell shut.
