Eleanor's POV
I stared at him, my mind struggling to make sense of what I was seeing. No scars. No burns. No deformities.
Why would he hide this?
I released my power, and he immediately turned his face away, his shoulders hunched like a wounded animal trying to make itself smaller.
"I don't understand," I said, the words coming out quieter than I intended.
He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just sat there with his back to me, his breathing uneven.
I stood up, forcing coldness back into my voice. "You better explain yourself. Stop acting like a weakling and answer me. Unless you want me to keep using force."
But Nomad didn't flinch. His shoulders sagged, not in fear but in exhaustion. When he spoke, his voice was flat, hollow.
"Go ahead," he said. "I needed this face ruined anyway. Burn it. Scar it. I don't care anymore."
