“Answer me.”
Aluna’s voice barely existed.
It was fragile. Thin. Hanging by a thread that could snap at any moment.
Arka did not move.
Did not breathe.
Did not speak.
And that silence told her everything he was trying not to say.
Her chest tightened painfully, as if something inside her was collapsing inward.
“You can’t,” she whispered.
Not accusation.
Not anger.
Just realization.
His eyes remained locked on hers, dark and unreadable, but she saw it now. Not control. Not dominance.
Conflict.
And that terrified her more than anything.
Because Arka did not hesitate.
Arka did not doubt.
Arka decided.
Always.
Until now.
Her fingers trembled violently at her sides.
“How long?” she asked.
Her voice was steadier than she felt.
“How long have you been controlling my life?”
