Helena pulled a chair closer to the bed, her sharp eyes focused on Amara. “Close your eyes,” she instructed. “Think back to the times when Killian would talk about his ambitions, his plans. Try to recall any details, anything he might have let slip.”
Amara nodded, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. She felt a cold sweat break out on her skin, her pulse quickening with the familiar anxiety that came whenever she thought of him. She forced herself to focus, to push past the fear and delve into the dark recesses of her mind where she had buried memories of Killian.
She could see him in her mind’s eye—his stormy gray eyes filled with a cruel, possessive hunger, his lips twisting into a smile that never reached his eyes. She could hear his voice, smooth and commanding, dripping with
