Then he slowly let go of her wrist. Lethia stared into Zeran's eyes with a look that screamed, 'Touch me and say hi to your ancestors.'
But it wasn't really him she loathed. She despised how his stare stripped her of power, leaving her no room to fight back. She hated how her emotions cracked wide open right in front of him.
"Looks like all that shock hit you hard. Take your time. Rest well tonight," he said, like a dictator fresh off a coup. "Talk to my butler if you need anything."
Lethia didn't respond. She turned away sharply, refusing to let him see the tears that had already spilled down her cheeks.
BRAAKKK!
A deafening crash exploded through the hallway—something heavy had slammed hard into something else.
Lethia and Zeran both snapped their heads toward the noise.
"ZERAN TUFFIN! GET OUT!"
A man's voice roared.
Lethia's fingers twitched, fidgeting. Her jaw clenched tight—she knew that voice too fucking well.
