Alaric stared at the weapon in his hands, his expression cold, heavy, and commanding. Then, he lifted his gaze to Caspian. His father sat upright, chest open, lips curved in a faint smile laced with challenge. His finger pointed to his own chest, over the left side.“Pull the trigger,” Caspian said, his voice calm.A challenge. A veiled command.Damian moved swiftly, tension etched into his face. He reached out toward Alaric as if hoping to stop the impending destruction.“Give me the gun, Alaric.” His voice was firm but carried a trace of fear.But Alaric didn’t budge. His fingers tightened around the gun’s grip as if it had become an extension of himself. One second. Two seconds.Then, he raised the weapon—not to hand it over to Damian, but to aim it directly at Caspian’s chest.Damian let out a frustrated growl. “Damn it, Alaric! Are you even listening to me? Give me the gun!”No response. No movement, except for Alaric’s slow, deliberate breath. His gaze was dark, unwavering, leav
Last Updated : 2025-02-04 Read more