And that made it worse.
His breathing grew rough and unstable.
“Beg!” he roared at me.
The blade shifted slightly.
My heart kicked hard against my ribs—
Still, I didn’t move.
Didn’t give him the reaction he wanted.
Because fear, when shown to men like him, only fed them.
The metal edged lower.
Just slightly—
But enough for pain to spike sharply through me.
“Bruno.”
A calm, commanding voice sliced through the room like a blade.
Everything froze.
The scissors were ripped from my mouth so abruptly I gasped, my body reacting before my mind could catch up.
Air rushed into my lungs.
I swallowed instinctively, my tongue moving quickly, carefully—checking.
No tear.
No blood.
Just a lingering ache and the bitter taste of adrenaline.
But something had changed.
The air itself felt... different.
Like the moment before a storm breaks.
A presence filled the room—not loud, not aggressive—butoverwhelmingin a way that pressed against my skin, my senses, my instincts.
Even without sight—
I felt it.
The subtle shift in temperature.
The way the space seemed to tighten around a single point.
The way silence itself became... respectful.
Footsteps followed, slow and measured.
