The footsteps drew closer, unhurried, measured, each one dragging Lucian's heart higher into his throat. His breath came fast and shallow. He tried to keep his back straight, but his body betrayed him—shivering, straining against the ropes, uselessly twisting in his bonds.
"Please!" His voice broke, the word torn out of him. His chest heaved as he cried out, louder, desperate, his fear no longer hidden. "Please, I beg you—let me go! I have done nothing! I don't even know you—I swear I am innocent!"
The gag muffled some of it, but not the terror. It cracked through anyway, trembling and raw, the cry of a man cornered. His throat burned, his eyes stung beneath the hood, and still he pleaded, voice splintering into near-sob. "Don't do this… please… I have no quarrel with you!"
Silence answered first.
A laugh.
