POV: Zina
The ropes bit into my wrists, tighter than before, as Xaden tied me to the chair. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum as I watched Asher sitting opposite me, still bound to his own chair. His small body trembled, his cheeks streaked with dried tears. Every inch of me screamed to protect him, but I couldn't move.
Xaden paced slowly in front of us, his lips curled in that twisted smirk that made my stomach churn. The dim light in the living room cast long, ominous shadows that danced with his movements.
"Comfortable?" he asked, his tone mocking as he pulled the last knot tight.
I glared at him. "What do you want, Xaden?" I demanded, my voice sharp but shaky. "Why are you doing this? What's your endgame?"
He stopped pacing and turned to me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "What do I want?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "I thought you'd never ask."
