- Sebastian Lightwood:
I stare at him.
Aurelian — on his knees in front of me.
If anyone had told me a month ago that I would see him like this, I would have laughed in their face. He doesn't kneel. He doesn't bow. He doesn't look small.
But right now, he does.
The vines still hold me against the wall, but my attention isn't on them anymore. It's on his face... Well, mask. On his eyes.
I've seen him amused. I've seen him smug. I've seen him furious. I've seen him controlled in ways that made him seem untouchable.
I have never seen him this sad.
There's something raw in his gaze. Something stripped down and unguarded. It isn't dramatic. It isn't performative. It's quiet, aching, and heavy — like he's carrying something he doesn't know how to put down.
And it twists something in my chest in a way I don't want.
But I'm not going to fold.
I refuse.
I swallow once and say, evenly, "Let me go."
He doesn't hesitate.
The vines unwind immediately.
