I forced my trembling legs to move forward, one agonizing step at a time. The air in the walk-in closet felt heavy, suffocating.
"Stephen," I said, my voice barely a whisper as I tried to swallow the lump of absolute terror in my throat. "We can... we can just end this without a fight. Please."
Stephen stood perfectly still in the doorway, his head tilted slightly. A slow, serene smile remained etched on his face. I noticed right away that he didn't lunge. He didn't raise his sword. A desperate, dangerous thought flashed through my mind: He still has feelings for the old Seraphina. I hated the idea of using that as leverage—it felt dirty, and the man was completely insane right now—but with my back against the wall, I had absolutely no choice.
"Draven would hurt me if I came with you," I lied, trying to sound small, fragile, and submissive. "He... he forces me to stay."
