CHAPTER 32
Clara's chest heaved, her white eyes shimmering with a mixture of unshed tears and venomous rage.
For two thousand years, she had waited for Lucian to look at her with even a fraction of the intensity he was currently using to shield a gutter rat.
"Your choice, your risk to take," Clara whispered, her voice trembling with a bitter finality.
She turned away from them, her green gown snapping like a whip against the floor. "Follow me." She led them toward a narrow hallway that shouldn't have fit within the cabin's exterior dimensions.
At the end stood a door made of solid, unpolished silver. As Clara pressed her palm against it, the metal bled away, revealing a chamber that made Isabella's breath hitch.
The room was blinding. It was an explosion of light and reflection, every inch of the walls and ceiling covered in seamless mirrors that tilted at impossible angles.
