Serena's ribs screamed every time she inhaled. Her knuckles had split open again, blood smearing against the cloth wrapped around them, and her cheek throbbed where Agnes's ring had caught bone.
Was it worth it?
Every single second.
She sat in Garrett's tent, waiting for him to step back through the portal. She'd already told Tiberon she'd apologize.
"What are you thinking?" Elara asked, watching her carefully.
"I'm not going to make that decision on my own." Serena's voice was firm.
"Then let's stop pretending we're not all thinking the same thing." Elara straightened. "Cards on the table. Everyone. If someone held a blade to your throat—" She paused, glancing at Serena's neck. "Too soon. Sorry. But if they did, what would you say?"
Serena didn't hesitate. "Break it."
Hale exhaled slowly. "Break."
Dexmon crossed his arms, jaw tight, knuckles white. "She deserves the guillotine if it were up to me."
No one disagreed.
