For several long minutes, none of the seven women moved.
They remained on their knees where Max had forced them down, their weakened bodies trembling beneath the weight of their stolen mana while humiliation burned through them more painfully than any physical wound could have.
The distance between them and the crystal sofa was not great. Under ordinary circumstances, any one of them could have crossed it in several steps, yet the path now seemed impossibly long, stretching before them like a road built from every shattered piece of their pride.
Ilyndessa stared at Max from beneath the strands of golden-pink hair that had fallen across her face.
He was not even watching them closely.
He sat comfortably against the crystal sofa with one arm resting along its curved edge, his fingers tapping against the smooth surface while his gaze wandered toward one of the tall windows overlooking his growing capital.
That indifference made everything worse.
