Roman's POV
Though I had told my mate-brother that I would have nothing to do with her, that whether she lived or died had nothing to do with me, I still couldn't help but feel concerned the moment I heard her painful screams.
My heart nearly stopped.
Without thinking, without hesitation, I ran to her room as if I was responding to the innate instinct buried deep within me. I didn't question it—I just moved.
The other four followed behind, but I was the first to reach the door. And the moment I stepped into the room, I froze. My chest tightened. My heart dropped.
Eira was sunk against the headboard, screaming her throat out. Her legs were folded, knees drawn up as she tried to push herself farther back, but there no space behind. One hand clutched her ear as if trying to block out the world, the other hand struggled violently to free itself to free from the metal handcuff. She didn't seem to care that her skin was being torn raw by the metal cuff and it was bleeding.
