Chapter 74
There's Nothing Left to Save
I was led into a wood paneled library that smelled of old paper and ink. Time crawled. Every tick of the ornate clock on the mantelpiece felt like a grain of sand slipping through a shrinking hourglass. I couldn't sit. I paced in front of shelves lined with unread leather bound books, my stomach twisted tight with dread and a stubborn, defiant hope.
Then the sound of the front door. Muffled voices. Footsteps.
The library door opened.
Lev stood there in his crisp office clothes, tie loosened, sleeves slightly creased. His expression was a complicated mix of surprise, lingering fatigue, and something darker, a flicker of the familiar arrogance I remembered, now edged with bitterness.
"Alayna, what a surprise," he said flatly.
