Roman's POV
The other four stepped inside, their expressions frozen in shock—just like mine.
There she was. Kneeling on the cold, unforgiving floor, Jason's torture toolbox sprawled open before her. In her trembling hands, she held the gun, the barrel pressed under her chin, ready to end it all.
"Eira. No," I shouted, my voice cracking, a mix of panic and disbelief.
She turned to look at us, her bloodshot eyes wet with tears, yet burning with a terrifying, resolute determination. And then, with terrifying swiftness, she pressed the trigger.
Click.
My heart stopped. For a moment, the world went silent. I could almost feel her life slipping away from her, and the thought of it made my chest tighten, suffocating me. The others were frozen, their faces pale, disbelief etched into every line.
She blinked, startled, and pressed it again. Click.
And again. Click.
"No bullets in gun," Jason said, "I emptied it after Kael killed my pets."
