“Tell me,” he said, his tone deliberate, “why are you resisting?”
I froze.
Of all the things he could have asked—of all the sharp observations that bastard was capable of—he went straight for the vein.
My jaw tightened, but the words still forced themselves past my teeth.
“Because if I don’t…” My voice cracked into a snarl. “If I don’t, she dies.”
The words reverberated through the chamber, heavy and raw, and for a moment, the only sound was my ragged breathing and the clink of the chains as I strained against them again.
Lucien’s eyes sharpened, his arms unfolding as he took one step closer.
“And when,” he asked, his tone quiet but cutting, “did you start caring if the woman dies?”
The question hit me like a blade between the ribs.
I jerked against the chains again, fury and conf
