~Hazel~
What did “ready” even mean? Ready to beg? Ready to endure his wrath? Or was it something worse? Asher didn’t elaborate, and that was part of his game—keeping me guessing, unraveling me little by little until there was nothing left.
A soft knock on the door startled me, and I shot to my feet. “Come in,” I called.
A maid entered, head bowed, carrying a sleek black box tied with a crimson ribbon. She stopped a few paces in front of me, hands trembling slightly as she extended the package.
“This is from Master Asher,” she said softly. “He instructed me to deliver it to you and said you should prepare immediately.”
My fingers hovered over the box as if it might burn me. “Did he say anything else?”
The maid shook her head, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Only that you are no
