When she saw that Elvis did not wince, she instinctively pulled the arrow and it went straight to him. All the guards watched in horror before their horror-turned faces changed into shock.
Elvis held the arrow with his hand, the edge of the arrow pointing to his eyes. His head bent low and his eyes raised a little, looking at Isadora.
For that moment, she could not breathe. Seeing Elvis holding the arrow that moment made everything she had planned break into pieces.
She had thought the arrow would meet him but it was more than astonishing and at the same time agonising. She watched as he held the arrow. At the same time, there was a wind from nowhere that blew his golden hair slowly giving him a heroic view. He was deadly handsome. How could she even think of that right now?
