Lara panicked, her heart racing like a wild stallion set free. She had never seen her brother so angry, so wrathful, so filled with hate. The fury in his eyes was unlike anything she had faced before—not just the rage of a warrior, but the raw, unfiltered anger of someone whose very soul had been wounded. He was not merely furious; he was broken inside, and she had been the one to shatter him.
She was just a maid—why did he care so much about her? Sansa was nothing compared to the weight of their royal bloodline, yet Atlas had declared war on anyone who dared harm her. Lara clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms until they drew blood. It didn't matter how much pain she inflicted on herself now. That wouldn't undo what she had done.
