At the mention of their father, Alistair's smile faltered, replaced by a flash of rage. His eyes glinted with madness, and he snapped, voice cracking with venom. "Father's wrath? Oh please don't insult me, Alaric. Since when has Father ever considered me his son? I am always the stain, the mistake, the bad egg he wishes he could cast aside. If he sees me as a monster, then I will make sure his judgment is not wrong."
Lucian's throat tightened under the rope as he listened, his lungs dragging in desperate, ragged breaths. He wanted to speak, to claw his way free, but his voice was shredded by fear and lack of air.
His mind screamed, "Is this how I will die? Between brothers warring, neither seeing me as more than a tool or a plaything?"
