"Please, stand up," Olessia pressed, her hands trembling slightly as she reached toward him.
He shook his head, a hard line of defiance cutting across his face, he wouldn't move an inch. His eyes are unyielding, it held hers with a silent warning that the only way he would rise was if she acted, if she dared to save his brother.
"You have to save him," he said.
Olessia's chest tightened. She glanced away, her fingers curling into fists. "What if I can't? What if I can't save him?" Her voice cracked.
That question lingered in her mind relentlessly. Everyone was counting on her to save Ziven, but what if she failed? The thought of trying and not succeeding twisted her stomach. The aftermath of failure, the disappointment and consequences, terrified her more than the task itself.
"You don't know if you can't," Kaive said.
"Just what if?" she whispered, doubt threading through her voice.
