The more Karen struggled, the faster her strength drained away.
Princess Karen clawed at Prince Lucan's wrist, her nails digging into his skin, but his grip only tightened. Her vision began to blur. Black spots flickered at the edges of her sight. The room felt smaller. The air thinner.
Prince Lucan's gaze turned manic—wild, unrecognizable.
"If I cannot have you," he muttered hoarsely, "no one will—"
He hated that everyone was using him. His brother, his mother, and now even the woman he loved. Just because he was the second prince, he could never fight for anything. How was that fair?
Karen's hands weakened.
Her movements slowed.
Her lungs burned.
Just as her arms fell limply at her sides—
The door burst open.
It slammed against the wall with a thunderous crack.
A team of guards rushed inside.
"Your Highness!" one shouted.
They did not hesitate.
