CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
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Faelyn's heart races with nerves, and muttering a single word becomes the most difficult task. Her palms are sweaty and her mouth feels like cotton.
What is she supposed to say now to the dragon whose burning gaze is sizing her up like prey?
Faelyn looks back anxiously, hoping to get some idea from Sanaya, but her friend is nowhere to be found!
Traitor! Faelyn panics with complete dismay. How dare she abandon me after pushing me into this dragon's den?
"Do you want something?" Amendiel's voice is low and husky, snapping Faelyn back to focus.
Faelyn nibbles on her lip nervously, a gesture that has Amendiel's golden eyes tracking the movement with unhidden intensity.
"N… No…" she stutters, her eyes zeroing in on the crimson blood seeping from Amendiel's open wound. The sight makes her stomach tight, but she forces herself to focus.
This is her chance.
