Darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating. The cold bite of Damian’s grip around Selena’s throat sent a sharp jolt of terror through her, but deeper than that—beneath the panic and the pain—was grief. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the Damian she knew.
And yet, his fingers curled tighter.
Selena choked, her vision swimming, black dots creeping at the edges of her sight. The queen stood just beyond, her silver eyes glittering with triumph.
“Such a tragic sight,” she murmured, tilting her head as if admiring a masterpiece. “Lover against lover. Heart against heart. How poetic.”
Selena’s hands clawed at Damian’s wrist, her body arching as she struggled for air. Her mind screamed at her to fight—to burn, to push him back—but her fire was gone. The abyss had stolen it from her. The queen had
