Back at the packhouse, Lucian tries as hard as possible to ignore the gnawing worry eating away at him.
No matter how much he tries to steel himself, he cannot shake the restless, clawing anxiety coursing through his veins.
His concern isn't for himself; it is for Aiden... who, at this moment, could be walking straight into Marcus's trap.
The accusations looming over him, the frame-up for the disappearance of the girls, the political maneuvering, everything is spiraling out of control.
Lucian has always prided himself on his composure, his ability to keep his emotions locked away, but the iron restraints digging into his wrists are a cruel reminder of how utterly powerless he is right now.
His arms ache, his skin raw where the silver has seared into him.
Every move he makes sends fresh waves of pain shooting through his limbs, but he cannot stop himself from testing the chains.
He has to do something, anything, to get out of here.
