Azriel's Point Of View
Draven picked up his own glass, swirling the liquid, his face darkening with each passing second. He didn't drink it, just stared at it as though it had personally offended him, violated some code. "It's an aphrodisiac," he said after a long moment, his voice grim with certainty. "High concentration. The synthetic kind that hits the bloodstream within fifteen minutes."
Lucian let out a sharp, genuine laugh, though his eyes remained completely cold, devoid of actual amusement. "An aphrodisiac?" He shook his head, his smirk widening into something predatory. "Oh, this is beautiful. First a bomb, now a honey trap? They really are trying every classic in the book tonight, aren't they?"
