Chapter 172

Elyana instinctively tried to pull her hand back, but her strength faltered. Daimon’s grasp was warm. Real. Not a dream. He looked down, frowning. “Your hands are freezing… Why are you wearing something so thin in this weather?” Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed the coat draped beside him and wrapped it around her shoulders. His familiar scent enveloped her instantly—deep, comforting, and infuriating. Not once did he ask where she’d been. Not once did he demand why she’d come home so late. He just… covered her with warmth. With concern. With something dangerously close to love. Looking at the man before her—gentle, silent, and caring—Elyana almost wanted to laugh. Was she truly that blind once? Her heart clenched. She stared at him and asked, her voice cutting through the quiet like glass: “Mr. Blackwood, don’t you get tired of pretending?” Daimon’s hand froze, still resting lightly over hers. He looked up, confused. “Pretending?” Elyana’s eyes were cold, her walls rising once ag