CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ragnar shot her a glare. "Don't push your luck, Astrid." He replied, turning around and resuming walking to his throne.

She smirked, keeping pace with him. "Or what? You'll throw me back in that suffocating room?"

He rolled his eyes, quickening his pace. Astrid caught up with him again. "I'll say it again and again. I know you never had the guts to kill me," she remarked.

He halted, facing her with a challenging expression. "Excuse me?"

How dare she repeat it? He wanted to kill her, in the same merciless manner she had killed Francia. He wanted revenge, he wanted to see her dead, to see blood oozing out of her, he wanted her gone.

But then, she was right to ask…why didn't he do it?

He clenched his fists, retorting, "I don't owe you an explanation."

She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing at him. But deep down, she enjoyed the way her words were bringing out a reaction from him.

"Afraid you'll reveal some deep, dark secret? Or perhaps a soft spot for the rogue you once called an enem