Her stomach twisted. "You know something."
Rowan hesitated. He glanced at Lucien then, and for the first time Liora saw hesitation—not hostility, not mockery, but restraint. As though he stood on the edge of a precipice, measuring the fall.
Lucien's voice cut through like steel.
"Say it, Rowan."
Rowan pushed away from the wall, his expression darkening. "If I speak, there's no undoing it. She'll be in as deep as we are."
"She already is," Lucien said, eyes flicking to Liora with something unreadable. "They came for her too."
The words sent a cold shiver down her spine. She wanted to deny it, to cling to the belief that she was nothing more than collateral. But deep down, she knew better.
Rowan exhaled, slow and reluctant.
"Then understand this, Liora. What binds me to him..." He inclined his head at Lucien... isn't loyalty. It isn't friendship. It's blood. And betrayal."
Her breath caught. "Blood…?"
Lucien's gaze darkened, but he said nothing.
