Triumphant return

[Oriena]

She looked down with faint annoyance as his hand gripped hers. The fuck? But the sudden grasp was too crushing to brush free; instead her muscles stiffened, her gaze narrowing irritation that travelled up his arm to his new features and darkened a glare there. Not that he noticed. His attention jerked back the way they'd come, expression blanked with awe. It sat oddly on White's severe features.

Ori had no sympathy for his wonder. Not right now. After a moment to unravel his words, she did not need to even try to know she'd sense nothing of power that came from a man, and the exclusion only soured her mood. "White feels nothing,"
she reminded him sharply. Not that the warning appeared to permeate at all. And it didn't stop her leaning in to watch the spectacle on the screen of his wallet, as pockets of others in the street around them did the same.

It was not awe that poured from Ori's gaze as she watched The Ascendancy's demonstration, but calculation. She forgot the crush of her fingers, now massaged in her other hand. The whisper of a smile ghosted her lips, sparking a retaliation in her eyes that burned like wildfire. Whatever message she read from the display it enlivened her, and she wasn't thinking about the opportunity it offered to their current circumstances.

White's voice brought her back to the present. A mischievous smile answered the call. Baccarat? Interesting.