Seeing Adrik tore me apart all over again. He walked in like a warrior, radiating power and confidence. Krystiyan was a fool to step in front of him—anyone could see that no one could stand before him. He cut Krystiyan’s throat with the knife I gave him. Then he threatened me with that same knife, my fucking gift to him, my words on the handle. His face was a mask of anger and disdain. He barked at me to come with him—not a request, an order. He hasn’t changed at all. Except that he hates me now. I know how weak I was in that moment. He looked so confident, so ferocious. Everything in me was
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