No one moved.
Not Ariana.
Not Sebastian.
Not even the soldiers behind Alexander, who stood like shadows carved from iron, waiting for a command that did not come.
The corridor had never felt smaller.
Or more suffocating.
Ariana could hear her own heartbeat—loud, frantic, betraying the calm she forced into her expression. Her arm tightened around Sebastian as he leaned against her, his weight unsteady but stubbornly upright.
Alexander stood at the far end, still as a statue.
Watching.
Always watching.
"You're bleeding on my floors," he said at last, his voice low, controlled.
Sebastian let out a strained breath that might have been a laugh.
"Your concern is… touching."
Ariana shot him a look.
"Don't."
But Alexander had already taken a step forward.
Measured.
Dangerous.
"It's not concern," he replied calmly. "It's observation."
Another step.
Ariana's grip on Sebastian tightened instinctively.
"Stop," she said.
Alexander didn't.
"Ariana."
