Kellan's face twisted with rage, his piercing glare burning into Diara like molten steel. He slammed his fists against the table, rattling the delicate wine glasses.
"How dare you?" he barked, his voice low and venomous as he stormed toward her, each step deliberate and menacing.
But Diara was ready. She stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the polished floor. Her hand trembled slightly, but the taser she held was steady, the small blue arc of electricity sparking with her defiance.
"Come any closer," she warned, her voice sharp and unyielding, "and you'll regret it, Kellan."
Her words hung in the air like a razor's edge, cutting through the tension between them. Kellan froze, his expression shifting from rage to something colder, more calculating.
"You think you can cage me?" she demanded, her voice rising with every syllable, the weight of years of pain spilling out.
