The Dark Regent leaned in closer, close enough that the man could smell the faint, expensive cologne beneath the copper tang of blood. His voice dropped to something intimate, almost confiding.
"Having your life in my hands. Knowing that I decide when you die. Whether you die at all. How slowly or how quickly. Every shallow, rattling breath you manage to pull in from this moment forward exists only because I permit it. Every erratic thump of your heart is a momentary gift I could revoke with a single thought. Every additional second you're allowed to remain conscious is my personal mercy—and mercy, as you're discovering... has a very high price tag."
That single remaining eye—wide, bloodshot, pupil blown to black—stared up at him with nothing left but naked, animal terror.
No pride.
No last flicker of defiance.
