Chapter 171

The man reached out naturally. His hand guided hers, fingers brushing lightly as he selected a falcon mask from the table. “A falcon,” he said calmly. “It doesn’t look large, but there’s tremendous strength inside it.” His fingers were long and steady. When he held the paintbrush, the curve of his fingertips seemed almost luminous, as if they carried their own quiet authority. Every stroke was deliberate, controlled, precise. “It suits you,” he added, his tone matter-of-fact. When the coloring was finished, he turned the mask over and, in neat, understated lettering, wrote two initials at the edge. SV. “Try it on,” he said. He didn’t wait for her response. He never needed permission to continue once he’d decided something. And strangely, his voice carried a kind of pull, calm, grounded, impossible to resist. Almost without thinking, Sloane stepped forward and took the mask from his hands. The craftsmanship surprised her. It had weight, just enough to feel real. The surface was textured