Ryan walked up to her, looking down at the figure huddled on the dirt, his voice flat as ice. “Scarlett, since you chose betrayal, you’ll pay the price.”
A bitter smile curved on her lips, twisted by pain and memory. “The price?” Her laugh was hollow. “Haven’t I paid enough already?”
She had clawed her way out of hell only to be thrown into the water prison, only to be broken again by the one man she trusted most. And now, here he was, branding her a traitor.
Ryan didn’t flinch. His face was carved from stone. “Take her to the dark room. I’ll administer the punishment myself.”
Scarlett held her head high in the briefest act of defiance. She wanted to argue, to make him see, but words meant nothing now. He had already decided she was guilty. So she stayed silent as the guards hauled her away.
Ryan’s gaze lingered on the blood soaking her shoulder for a moment before he turned his head away and said, low and detached, “Dress the wound properly, then bring her in.”
But he didn’t know that Rowena had already seized control in his absence. Her command was simple, vicious. “No one is to tend her wound. That’s what Ryan wants.”