Lorraine's POV
Adrian's words hung in the air like a blade pressed against my throat.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
No one breathed.
The room felt like it was shrinking, the walls inching closer, suffocating us beneath the weight of crimson armor and sharpened steel. Everywhere I looked, there was a soldier with red insignias watching us with hunger barely restrained. The Crimson soldiers had subtly shifted, their formation tightening, weapons angling inward as if we were prey already caught in a net.
I became painfully aware of how surrounded we were.
Kieran's hand never left mine.
His grip was firm, grounding, a silent anchor keeping me from spiraling as my pulse thundered violently in my ears. His thumb brushed my knuckles once, deliberately, as if to remind me that no matter what happened next, I was not alone.
Then he spoke.
