Zephyr was taken aback. Not by her defiance, or even her audacity, but by the sheer, unadulterated anger sparking in her eyes. It was a controlled fury, but he could see the clear rage flickering beneath the surface. His gaze dropped to her hand, clutching the knife pressed against the left side of her chest. It was a sharp, dangerous threat, and he was intrigued.
"May I know why you think your life is important to me?" he asked, his voice calm and even.
It was a simple question.
She was trying to bargain with her life, and he wanted to know why she believed it had any value to him.
