Chapter 144: The Swindler
Of course, Varrel didn’t want Lethia dead. He hadn’t pulled all those strings just to watch her throw her life away with a jagged piece of wood.
His jaw tightened, eyes sharp, and with a subtle tilt of his head, he gave the silent command to the oracle beside him to administer the antidote to Caelum.
In all the years he’d known her, never once had Lethia looked this broken. This defeated. Her trembling fists clenched so hard they shook, screaming how much she loathed him for what had happened to the man bleeding out on the floor.
It hadn’t even been two fucking months since she walked away from him, and yet—why? Why was the woman he knew, who was colder than ice, now trembling over some man she barely knew? Was that bastard her fated mate?
The ponytailed woman crouched beside Caelum and swirled her fingers, making the silver dagger lodged in his back dissolve into a puff of black smoke.
She muttered something in a language Lethia couldn’t grasp, her palms rubbing together until a small, glowing blue pill flickered into existence. Without a word, she slipped it into Caelum’s mouth.
["It’s the same poison and antidote they used on your body back then. Tch... but this bitch uses black magic to summon and store them in her soul space. Never thought freaks like her still existed in this century."]
Lethia heard Whisney’s rambling but didn’t bother engaging. She couldn’t afford to. Her mind was locked, focused, completely consumed by Caelum.
Every second that dragged on pounded harder in her chest, her heart thudding like a war drum as she waited for any sign... anything at all... that he was still with her.
When she moved to kneel beside Caelum, a calloused, firm, possessive grip yanked her back.
Varrel dragged her so close she could smell that damn mix of cardamom and his raw masculine scent and it made her stomach twist with nausea.