Neoma's heart raced as she looked at Owel, her relief palpable. "I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Owel's expression remained stern, his eyes cold and calculating. "Plans changed. Good thing I did, huh?" he replied, his voice devoid of any warmth. He glanced down at Lucien's unconscious form.
"Who’s this guy?"
"Oh, just someone who wanted a chance to take me to my father," Neoma replied, her voice hardening. "Of course, he underestimated me."
Owel nodded curtly, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a sharp, vigilant gaze. "Can you walk?"
Neoma winced as she stood up, her injured leg protesting with every movement. "I'll manage," she said through gritted teeth.
“So, what do you want me to do about him? Should I finish him of
