Chapter 968

The air trembled with the tension of an invasion, a palpable force that made breathing seem like a luxury.

Thalassa trembled with excess fear, her limbs still weak from the ordeal, as she glanced towards the doorway. There, striding in with a commanding presence that seemed to dominate the very room, was a tall figure flanked by an entourage. His regal bearing was unmatched-án aura that spoke of a ruler among men.

It was Lysander!

Thalassa’s heart fluttered with a mixture of dread and an inexplicable sensation.

“Lysander…”

Her voice was hoarse, the words barely escaping her lips. She wanted to tell him about the harrowing events she had just endured, but a wave of overwhelming emotion surged within her, bringing tears to her eyes.

She hadn’t felt the urge to cry when faced with the cruelty and danger earlier, but now, in the presence of him, vulnerability surfaced, and all the fear and grievances came flooding out.

Struggling to maintain her balance, Thalassa attempted to move towards Lysander.

But his countenance was cold as ice, his aura chilling as if it emanated from the depths of hell itself.

out and grasped Thalassa’s arm, yanking her

her knees nearly giving out beneath her, and she

arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her forcefully against his sturdy torso. His powerful arm held her close, pressing her seamlessly into

solidness of his abdomen, radiating a heat that seemed to

hitched, her cheeks flushing

steady itself, Lysander’s index finger tilted her chin upward,

Lysander’s voice was a low rumble, laced with an

searched for her frantically, worried for

was, in a hotel room with Callum, wrapped up in an

his words, Thalassa felt the sting of his cold tone, a tightness seizing

now

bewildered, “Lysander, what

Lysander’s lips. “That look in your eyes… Are you upset that I interrupted your

such an ordeal, she had felt a sense of relief upon

words were

down her face, not from sorrow or pain, but from a heart that ached with disappointment

had been through a harrowing kidnapping, faced with the prospect of ruin, yet not a single tear had fallen. But now, a single sentence

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