Trembling.Weak.Prey.
“I’ve delivered Lord Winston’s forces,” I declared, my voice strong with purpose.
“I want you to kill them.”
They stiffened, the truth dawning upon them.
“You’re getting weak, Amir.You need to regain your strength,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice as worry coiled in my chest.“The success of the masquerade depends on you.”
But more than that—I could not bear to watch him suffer another day.
The pain in my chest was an ache too deep to name.
“And, truly, I cannot live knowing how you are suffering, my love.”
A slow, satisfied exhale left him.
“Ah, my sweet darling venom.”
His voice slithered through the dungeon, a sound both affectionate and lethal.
He struggled to rise, his movements slow, strained.
But in his eyes—anticipation.
Hunger.
A promise of strength renewed.
And then—he smiled.
Not a cruel smile.Not entirely.
But something dark still lurked behind it.
“I have never met such a determined woman,” Amir murmured, his voice bouncing off the stone walls.
“I do not deserve your kindness.”
“Don’t say that,” I countered, my tone hardening like tempered steel.
“I would do more,” I whispered, the words catching on the edge of a breath.“Whatever it takes.”
I stepped forward, brushing my fingers along the rough stubble of his cheek before pulling a small, hidden key from my pocket.
The key to his freedom.
I pressed it into the iron lock, meeting his gaze.
“Be free,” I whispered.
The metal clinked.
He rose.
Unsteady at first, his body was a battlefield between hunger and weakness.
But his eyes?—
