Aria didn't know where he was going with his speech, but hearing him talk while she remained frozen in place, unable to look away, horrified her.
"I've been too soft," he said.
His voice wasn't raised. It wasn't angry. That made it so much worse. It was the same smooth, calm tone he always used—almost gentle. There was even a faint smile playing on his lips. Not the playful smirk he usually wore, but something far more dangerous.
And yet, it was clear—he was furious. The kind of cold, calculating fury that made Aria's stomach twist. Still, more than anything, she wished she could speak, could scream, could move. But she felt the pressure coiling tight around her—shadows, she was sure. Shadows that Zyren commanded with effortless cruelty.
