{"You must never be fearful about what you are doing when it's right."}
ROU'S POV
The cell reeked of damp stone and the lingering scent of blood, yet Sierra sat there as if she belonged as if she had chosen this over everything else. Over me. Over the coven. Over reason itself. My hands clenched into fists as I paced, my boots scuffing against the cold floor. Every second she stayed by his side was a blade twisting in my gut. "Sierra, get up. Now." My voice was a low growl, thick with something I hated, desperation. "You're making a mistake."
She didn't move. Didn't even look at me. Her gaze was locked on Rou, the damned Rogourau who sat there, shackled, yet so smug it made my skin crawl.
His golden eyes gleamed in the dim torchlight, lips curling into a smirk. "You look like a man unraveling, Dante. Maybe you should sit before you fall apart."
