Alaric Sokolov stood on the balcony shirtless, the moonlight shining on his bronze skin that seemed to sparkle, a cigarette in his mouth as he puffed smoke into the air.
His assistant stood behind him, arms crossed awaiting orders.
“Is everything ready?” Alaric asked.
The assistant nodded, “Everything is ready sir. They will arrive in a few hours.”
Alaric nodded, “Good…remember what the witch told you, right?”
“Yes sir.”
“But if nothing happens before I pick one of them, make sure to keep aside the strong-headed one, the one that no one would care about if they were dead.”
****
Liana’s POV
I knelt before Olivia’s lifeless form, my thoughts clouded as I gazed upon her vacant eyes, the crushed throat, and the gaping mouth. Her knees shattered and her arm contorted.
She met such a tragic end, subjected to unspeakable torment. How could I have been so blind? Why did I fail to notice the second carriage trailing behind us, carrying the torturer and another healer?
Why did I heed Amira’s request to gather tarline flowers for her headache in the wild bushes? So many questions ran through my head as I stared at the dead body of my friend.
Stockholm syndrome. That was what I had, I failed to see the fault of my sister because I loved her. She was my family and the only one who had shown me support. But she had manipulated my emotions to suit her will and I had been stupid enough to allow it.
