Serith crawled across the floor. Not toward the door or the window, but away from Holden and the Twins waiting in the doorway. Away from everything. Her arms hung uselessly at her sides, fingers scraping against the floor as her knees pushed her forward in a slow, desperate shuffle.
She didn't get far. Her back struck the base of the velvet couch, the same couch she'd been sitting on when Holden walked in and the same one he'd thrown her against minutes ago. She was trapped between the couch and the wall, her black dress bunched around her legs and hair hanging across her face.
Slowly, she looked up at Holden. His eyes stared down at her with something worse than anger.
Disgust.
"Wait," she said.
Her voice sounded nothing like the smooth, hypnotic tone that had made it a weapon for decades. What remained was small and weak, the voice of a woman who had just realized her power was gone and that the man standing over her wasn't the kind to offer second chances.
