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23. Perfect Match

Inside the room, the rogues were poised to attack, their eyes fixed on her with a sinister hunger. Anticipation hung in the air like a noose, and their saliva pooled on the ground like oil, repulsing her. She tilted her neck left and right, easing the tension from too much sleeping.

When the rogues heard Nevea's faint sound, they roared with fury and pounded toward her. She sprinted away, her eyes flicking across the room, frantically seeking a weapon she could use. When her gaze locked on a gun lying on the ground behind one of the rogues, she didn't hesitate before going for it.

Behind the door, Zach sat crossed-legged, waiting patiently as he listened to Nevea's grunt and heavy breath due to her fight. His hand raised to hide a wicked smile across his face as he heard the low groan of rogues. It was entrancing, more captivating than a classic piece from a renowned musician.

Then he heard her voice, strong and fierce. "Come here, fucker!" Her cursing was like a poem to him. Crazy?
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