'What should I do... now?' The hallway air felt heavy, pressing against Bella's chest as she stood frozen near the dining entrance, her fingers white-knuckled around the fabric of her dress.
She wanted to flee, to vanish into the shadows where she belonged, but the memory of his words—Viktor's words about her sister—anchored her feet to the floorboards.
She knew that each of his words was true, from the fact of her sister to his awareness of Prince Leo's attack. Even if he didn't mention it explicitly, she knew he knew everything.
'He knows... he knows where she is.'
The thought looped in her mind, a desperate, jagged hope that pierced through the suffocating guilt of her own actions.
She had attacked Helena—Mira, bitten the hand of the very people who were now offering her shelter, and at that, she was still here, breathing, unchained.
Bella bit her lower lip, the sharp pain grounding her as she turned, her yellow eyes trembling.
