Amara’s POV.
“Go ahead, do it,” I taunted. “What’s stopping you? I don’t care if you kill me.”
I had held out a glimmer of hope that he would be wracked with guilt, that he might fall to his knees and beg for my forgiveness, even after his betrayal. If he had, I might have found it in my heart to consider forgiving him for betraying me. But that momentary fantasy quickly shattered as I watched the apathy in his eyes.
Instead, he let me down. I had no idea he could lay a finger on me, let alone harm or even kill me with his bare hands. How could he not feel remorse? How could he remain so indifferent to the pain he had inflicted upon me?
I struggled with all my might to break free, but his strength was overpowering. I could feel myself gasping for air, trying to draw in enough oxygen
