Eira's POV
A delicate palm fell to the floor. Blood streamed along the wooden armrest, dripping down and pooling beneath the chair.
I aimed for her wrist, and now her hand no longer had a palm. The same hand which she used to drug Kael, and ruined my life.
Then I did what my ears truly craved. I ripped the tape away from her mouth with harsh tug and listened to her screams as they tore through the air.
She was in immense pain, of course she was. But there was no mercy left in my heart. That part of me had died long ago.
I glanced at Rafe. His expression held a dark satisfaction, as if he admired what I had done.
"Will she die from the bleeding?" I asked calmly, not a trace of hesitation in my eyes.
He chuckled and shook his head, already grabbing a cloth to wrap that bitch's severed hand to slow the blood loss.
"The bitch is strong," he assured me, busy wrapping her hand. "Her self healing has improved because of your blood."
