Dallas passed the yellow rose bushes before the Mist headquarters. He had to drag himself forward, even though the smoke in Aella’s gun was already halved. He sneezed again.
Those beautiful flowers. Those accursed roses.
But no matter how cursed they were, they were still beautiful, still captivating.
He guessed that Aella must’ve seen the hurt in his eyes. Perhaps she’d even heard his heart breaking. Every word she uttered was like daggers to him, and the worst of it all was that it was what she had intended to do. Her intention was to break him, and let him carry the message all the way back to Boss, to let Boss know she wasn’t being mistreated—which was why she didn’t want Dallas dead yet.