Lucian's POV
Roman rejoined us, his fists clenched, his gaze burning with rage as if blaming us for forcing him to do this. It was brutal to leave her there like this. If he could, he would have kicked every one of us right then—and we would have accepted it gladly. We could only offer him apologetic gazes.
He turned away, standing apart from us, his rigid posture radiating fury.
By the time, her screams for freedom and the desperate rattling of the door went on until they slowly died into faint sobs. What remained was the broken sight of her tear-streaked face pressed against the cold iron bars as she slid down, collapsing to her knees in helpless surrender, whispering weak pleas for someone—anyone—to free her.
Her sobs lingered for a while, then faltered into silence. Warily, she lifted her head, her body trembling, fear etched deep in her gaze. As her eyes scanned the room in that dreadful stillness, her expression turned ashen.
