Olivia's POV
"You have two minutes," the voice said. "Leave now, Lord Frederick, or both women die."
Frederick did not move at first. He stood like a statue, his chest heaving. His eyes burned red. I could see the war in him—anger, fear, something like pain.
"No," he growled. "You promised to hand over Selene."
The voice laughed softly. "And you are foolish to believe that."
The red light on Selene's chest started to blink faster. I heard it—tick, tick—small and sharp in the loud room. My hands shook. My collar buzzed cold against my skin.
Frederick took one step forward. He looked like a beast about to break free. But the cartoon-like voice spoke again.
"Last warning," it said. "One minute."
Frederick's jaw clenched. He looked at me once. In his eyes I saw something soft, a word without noise. He was coming back for us.
Then, with a hard look, he turned away.
He did not walk slowly. He ran. He did not look back.
