Sindy
His words lingered long after his footsteps faded down the corridor.
“Tonight, you’ll speak it in surrender.”
I stood frozen beside the door, fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms, breath coming in ragged bursts. The air felt too thin, the walls too close. My chest burned as though fire had been poured into my ribs, as though the bond itself laughed at me for even daring to think I could resist.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head hard enough that my hair whipped across my face. “Never. I’ll never give him that.”
But my voice cracked.
And that crack was enough to terrify me.
I stumbled back from the door and collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. My body trembled—not from exhaustion, not from weakness, but from the storm inside me.
Fury.
Rage at him
