It came from the ring that sat on top of the vanity, the ring his mother always wore. She was never without it. As though checking to make sure, his gaze dipped down to her bare fingers and his heart raced.
Jayran couldn't tear his gaze away from the ring glinting on the vanity. His heart thundered against his ribs, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. That ring had never left his mother's hand. Not since he could remember. For it to be sitting there now, something about it felt wrong.
He felt her nails dig deeper into his skin, dragging him back to the present. The sharp sting of pain flared across his throat, but he bit back a wince. Her goal was to hurt him, to punish him for stepping out of line and he refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. He wouldn't let her see how much she could still hurt him, though deep down, he knew she already knew.
