Turik's gaze slid back to Reuben, lingering like a wolf savoring the moment before it tore into the throat of its prey. His hand waved lazily, yet the command in it was unmistakable.
"Bring him forward," he drawled, his tone thick with mockery. "The prince has bark, yes… but let us see if he has marrow. Since his beloved woman has chosen life, I must honor her request, mustn't I? It would be so unkind to disappoint her."
Helga's head snapped toward Mira, eyes blazing with contempt sharp enough to cut. Mira's face remained pale, hollow, her lips trembling, but she gave no protest.
Two Zuran soldiers hauled Reuben by the arms, dragging him across the chamber. His boots scraped against the stone, leaving dark streaks of blood that marked every inch of his suffering. When they forced him to his knees before Turik, his body sagged like a broken reed.
