Lyra's POV
My wrists were restrained behind my back, but the gag placed on my mouth had been taken off, so I could talk.
Kira was facing me with her head slumped against the cell bars on the floor, and she looked as if she was resting on some ancient straw beds.
Looking at her from across the room, I caught her dark eyes staring in my direction.
“He’ll come for us, you know,” she remarked placidly. “Orion. We’re not going to rot in this prison for Ben's amusement.”
I replied, half-chuckling. “He most certainly does not give a damn if we are still alive, and if he does, it is surely to enrich his already bolstered ego.”
I detected her lips pursing together in a stubborn smile. “You’re weak at giving him due credit. He’s a dramatic character based on only what he lets you capture him
