Kenneth didn't open the door for him. His fingers hovered over the keypad, his emerald eyes flickering with suspicion as he assessed the High Priest's weakened state. If the priest ran, neither of us could match his strength—not in his current condition, with his wrists still smoking from the silver cuffs.
Suddenly, a woman in the opposite room thrust her hand through the door's window, her pale fingers curling around the bars like skeletal branches. Her voice was raw with desperation as she cried, "Take me with you, Your Majesty! I know it's you. Please, take me back to Vampire Island! I was captured by the Dark Envoy—I'm innocent!"
Innocent? The word tasted bitter on my tongue. Everyone locked in these cells claimed innocence, their pleas as hollow as the prison's echoing corridors. I couldn't help but laugh—a dry, humorless sound that scraped my throat. Still, I signaled Kenneth to open the door.
