The stone chamber was dimly lit, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows across the cold, uneven walls.
The air inside was heavy with the faint scent of herbs and damp fur, but despite the warmth of the animal pelt beneath her, Zara felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.
She lay stretched out on the thick fur, her dark wild hair cascading over the soft surface, her body frail from the supposed illness that had left her bedridden for two days now or maybe three?.
Or rather, from the poison she had so stupidly ingested in her failed attempt to frame Isabella.
Seated beside her, Kian radiated cold indifference, his sharp blue eyes watching her with the same interest one might have for an insect crawling too close to their food.
He sat upright, his posture effortlessly regal, his powerful frame untouched by concern.
His presence alone was intimidating, yet he had not spoken since entering the room, as if he were merely enduring her existence.
