Chapter 90
Annalise
Sylus smirked as he leaned back on the wall, watching the two battered women in front of him with the kind of cruel amusement that sent shivers down my spine.
"I nearly forgot about this," he mused, his tone dripping with satisfaction.
I stared at them—Petunia, barely able to hold herself up, and Willow, blood smeared across her lips, her swollen face twisted in anger. My heart pounded in my chest, not because I pitied them, but because I knew how dangerous this moment was.
If Petunia said one wrong thing—if she dared to speak about the mark—I was done.
The three of them were already too powerful. Too dangerous. If they even suspected who I truly was, I wouldn’t last long enough to take what was mine.
Willow spat blood onto the floor, her voice hoarse but filled
