The tension in the cave lingered long after Aurora's words fell silent, thick and unmoving like the air before a storm. For a few drawn-out seconds, neither of them spoke. Their gazes were locked in a silent standoff that could tip either way. But then, almost imperceptibly, something in Asher's posture shifted.
His shoulders eased, not in relaxation but in decision. "Start," he said at last. His voice was still cold but no longer laced with immediate violence.
Aurora didn't move immediately because she knew better than to mistake that single word for trust.
"And don't try anything," he added, narrowing his gaze once again. It looked sharp and unforgiving. "If you are playing tricks, I'll know. And if you fail to cure me within two weeks…" His lips curved faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "You won't get to live another day."
