Her chest moved. Once. Shallow. Then again.
She was breathing.
But her face—
Her face was gone.
The skin had peeled in ribbons, melted away in uneven patches. Her once-soft features were now unrecognizable—shrunken, raw, and ravaged. Like something had dragged claws down her beauty and taken it for keeps.
Asael collapsed sideways, bracing himself with a shaking arm. He was drenched in sweat, heart pounding, vision blurred. His mouth opened to speak but only a weak gasp came out.
Kian stared at his sister. Something sharp and dark twisted in his chest.
But he said nothing.
Not yet.
Kian didn't thank Asael with words.
He gave him a look. One filled with something rare and heavy.
Gratitude.
And behind it?
Murderous intent.
Because whoever did this had made two mistakes.
They thought Shelia would die.
And they thought Kian wouldn't destroy them for it.
...
