"Rex," she gasped, the word a strained, melodic thread of sound fighting through the crushing pressure of his hand.
Her eyes searched his, not with the gaze of a superior, but with the desperate focus of someone trying to navigate a storm. "Rex... put me down... so I can tell you... before the words... fail me."
She wasn't just asking for air; she was asking for the dignity required to speak the truth.
"You had a goddamn domain full of warning signs available to you!" Rex's voice didn't explode this time; it dropped into a low, vibrating register of pure, concentrated venom.
It was the sound of a predator deciding exactly where to bite. "You had months. You had every single conversation we've ever had in this fucking space."
"And the first time the truth reaches my ears is after the damage is done? After the world has already started shifting under my feet?"
