"Exactly... Soren... It was a suicide mission you sent him on." The voice spat venom.
But he did not... He could not. He would not!
Riven's lips quivered. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to breathe. "I—I'll do it," he croaked weakly. He looked small. Too small. "I'll sever it."
The real Soren—present Soren—shook his head, his voice breaking. "Stop this!"
But the visions continued, ignoring his plea.
The memory shifted. The sound of paper crackled—Soren's own hand flipping through documents, contracts, letters. His vision blurred as his mind filled in the missing pieces.
There it was. The seal. Ronan's. It was unmistakable.
Transfer deeds.
"No…" he breathed, stepping closer, though there was nothing he could touch. "No, I wouldn't—"
He would not give Riven back to Ronan just for a few mines.
He had agreed to trade Riven.
For mines. For resources. For leverage.
For power.
