Lord Winston’s men—wolves in their own right, now fumbling, uncertain.
Their gazes flickered between one another, searching for some unspoken assurance, some silent order that would not come.
They did not yet understand.
But they would.
“Inside,” I commanded again, the finality in my tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, they obeyed.
I stepped in behind them, and before the last of them could turn, I slid the heavy bolt into place.
Locked.Sealed.
Their fate was set in iron and stone.
A shudder raked through my hands—not fear.
Something far more potent.
Something wild.
As the last echo scuffle on stone faded, I turned.
To Amir.
His chains dangled loosely from the wall like serpents waiting to strike, and in the dim glow of flickering torchlight, I saw the slow rise and fall of his chest.
A predator lying in wait.
“What are you doing?”one of the men stammered, his voice brittle with unease.
“Silence,” I snapped.
They huddled together now—frightened sheep, sensing the wolves closing in.
“Amir.”
His name was a whisper, a call.
I stepped forward, closer to the shadows within shadows.
And then—his eyes found mine.
Dark.Hollow.Waiting.
A flicker of life burned there, an ember within the abyss.
His voice was rough, edged with exhaustion, but beneath it, there was something else—admiration.
“Elizabeth.”
The way he spoke my name sent a pulse through my veins.
“What have you done?”
I pushed them forward.
