Halfway back to the cell, sharp footsteps echoed through the corridor, and the two guards escorting Aire immediately straightened.
Lysander emerged from the shadows.
His expression darkened the moment he saw her. His gaze swept over the blood at the corner of her mouth, then to her wrists, and back to her face.
A curse left him under his breath.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. "My lord." They bowed to him.
Lysander barely acknowledged them. "I'll take her." He told them.
Neither guard moved. They shared a wary look, spechlessly warning the other not to give in.
Lysander's eyes shifted toward them.
The temperature in the corridor seemed to drop. "I'll take her," he repeated. "No words of this to Vaelor."
The hesitation lasted only a few seconds, then both guards stepped aside.
"Yes, my lord."
Aire watched them leave.
The moment they disappeared around the corner, Lysander turned toward her. For several seconds he simply stared.
Then he grabbed one of her wrists.
