NOA:
Zaber was caught between two fires.
The first fire—Aurora.
Her gaze was cold, her movements measured, and her words stood on the thin line between command and opportunity. She did not want submission, but the consequences of not submitting, though unspoken, were sufficiently evident in the pressure within the room itself.
The second fire—Zaber himself.
He had never wanted to live in someone's shadow. Especially not by force. Especially not by command. The idea of being controlled by an older woman with cold eyes weighed heavily on his pride.
From childhood, he had understood one thing: life shows you no mercy. Begging might save you temporarily, but it doesn't grant respect. Respect is born from power.
But now, inside him, it wasn't just pride; there was calculation too.
If he refused—his power wouldn't suffice for now.
If he agreed—being someone's slave was worse than death, but for the sake of his goals and revenge, he didn't even have the right to die.
