The desert air grew heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness as the two figures stood face to face beneath the burning sky.
Asher's grip on her throat loosened, his fingers uncurling as he took a half-step back. His dark yellow eyes narrowed, bewilderment flickering through his previously cold gaze.
"What?" His voice was low, edged with disbelief, "Have you truly gone mad?"
Rebecca didn't flinch.
There was no hesitation in her eyes, no moment of doubt. The dark red pools blazed with unyielding resolve, like molten fire refusing to be extinguished.
And that, more than anything, confused him.
She was serious.
"Yes," she bit out, her voice cold and fierce, "I have gone mad." Her jaw tightened, her chin lifting defiantly. "But if this is what it takes for you to trust me, then so be it."
Asher's gaze darkened. "Why do you care so much about whether I trust you or not?" His voice was sharp, his patience thinning.
