Chapter 11

• “You don’t understand,” I whispered, barely able to form the words as I stood in front of them—Lowan and his brothers, the men who had tormented me, haunted my dreams for years. “None of this makes sense.”
• Lowan’s eyes were dark, his face tight with something close to regret, or maybe guilt. It was hard to tell anymore. His usual calm, the stoic expression I had come to recognize over the past months, was gone, replaced with something I couldn’t quite grasp.
• “You have to understand, Ava,” he said, his voice a rasp. “This isn’t just about us. This is about your future. Our future.”