Kianna's Pov:The safe house felt like a cage—too quiet and too dim. The air in here was thick with the scent of gun oil and stale coffee that Mordred always left brewing. Lysander and I had raced here after that horrifying video call from Maddox, my heart was pounding the whole way with visions of Lesley bound and terrified against the chair, flashing like nightmares. Lysander had driven, his good hand gripping the wheel tight with his face set in that determined mask he wore when things got bad. "We'll wait here," he'd said, as if Mordred's place was neutral ground. But nothing felt neutral anymore—not after seeing Mordred tied up, bloodied but defiant, in that grainy feed.We paced the living room, the clock ticking like a bomb. Lysander leaned against the wall, his bandaged arm slung across his chest, eyes flicking to his phone every few seconds. "He'll be fine," he muttered, more to himself than me. "Guy's built like a tank."I nodded, but my stomach twisted. And when Mordr
Last Updated : 2025-11-11 Read more