Before Ahcehera could respond, Abrixien moved.
His long fingers tapped against the armrest of Khaterine's chair, his gaze locked onto hers. His expression remained unreadable, yet there was an undeniable intensity in his stare.
"You caused quite a mess," he murmured, his voice deceptively soft. "Do you know how much trouble you've put me through?"
Ahcehera narrowed her eyes. His words… his tone… It was not the response she expected.
Khaterine's smirk faltered slightly, but she quickly masked it with a look of defiance. "And yet, you're here, aren't you?"
Abrixien exhaled sharply, straightening. "You owe me a lot, Khaterine."
Ahcehera's gaze snapped to him. "What exactly does she owe you?"
Her brother turned toward her, but his expression remained unreadable. "That's none of your concern, Ahcehera."
A chill ran down her spine. There was something more to this.
