ZAVIAN NOLVEN POV

This is interesting.

My hand stilled, the brush hovering mid-stroke on the canvas in front of me, paint dripping slowly onto the floor as I stared at the image staring back at me.

What was I doing? And why her?

I hadn’t painted faces in years.

Yet here I was, staring at a pair of eyes I hadn’t meant to recreate, etched too precisely into the canvas to be a coincidence.

Kaida Reed’s eyes.

It was a green so unusual it shifted with the light.

But the colors were only the beginning. It was the way she looked at me. The way she claimed me with her...