Diana’s pov
I didn’t move at all as he hugged me.
I had thought about the day I would meet him again, and it never went like this.
When the day came, I was supposed to be stronger, not just physically but also emotionally. But now, as his scent hits my nose and his voice floats around my ears, I realize something.
I am not strong.
In fact, I am far from being called strong.
I am still that girl who couldn’t avenge her parents. Still, that girl who got saved by the enemy and who is still at the enemy’s mercy.
Because in that moment, it hit me that the only reason I was allowed out was so he could meet me.
This was all arranged by him. Isn’t that the same as being at the enemy’s mercy?
He let me escape, arranged for people to come and get me, faked my death, and now even has the pow
