In a dark, hidden chamber, Alec leaned against the wall, his smirk shadowed by flickering candlelight. Across from him, Nyxara busied herself with an array of vials and herbs.
“The acolyte,” Alec began, his tone sharp, “saw my red eyes. He was breaking free, Nyxara.”
Nyxara froze, her grip tightening on a vial. “I’ll brew a stronger potion to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Alec moved closer, his presence looming over her. “I appreciate your devotion, Nyxara. Truly.”
Her breath hitched, tension thick in the air.
“Your passion is admirable,” Alec continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “But make sure your solutions don’t fail me again.”
Nyxara swallowed hard, forcing a nod. Steady yourself, she thought. Her hands shook, but her resolve hardened. Failure wasn’t an option. Not with him.
Alec’s smirk deepened, crimson eyes glowing faintly as if feeding off her unease.