"Sure..." Ednar said with narrowed eyes, then he looked at Hellen.
"Who is he, Lena?" he asked, and she could sense it immediately—suspicion.
"Calm down, Ed. He's the one who saved me from the bandits," she said, reaching up to hold his cheeks with practiced tenderness, her fingers tracing the familiar lines of his jaw. "So don't overthink it. Or don't you even trust me anymore?" She let her voice carry just the right note of wounded disappointment, watching as the words hit their mark.
The young man bit his lip, guilt immediately replacing suspicion in his expression. "Alright, I'm sorry. I just don't like other men being this close to you," he admitted, his gaze darting between her and Riley. The obvious lack of personal space between them gnawed at him, and his danger senses were screaming warnings he couldn't ignore. With this stranger being so unnaturally good-looking, Ednar felt that if he left things as they were, something bad would happen sooner rather than later.
