The Apocalyptic Queen's Werewolf Journey (Thora and Darius) novel Chapter 483

Thora's expression didn't change, but her eyes shifted slightly. She couldn't figure out what game Lance was playing.

Lance, for his part, looked completely unbothered, as if he'd just cracked a casual joke.

Frost's gaze also landed on Thora, venom churning in his chest. Her again. He absolutely did not want Sierra asking that woman for help.

But he also knew that in a situation like this, Sierra would do it without hesitation.

He didn't have an ounce of strength left. He couldn't even move. All he could do was watch.

Sierra's eyes found Thora too. She didn't understand why Lance was making her plead with this person, but she knew one thing—Lance was a man of his word. Whatever he promised, he delivered.

She stared at Thora for a long time without speaking, but the desperate plea in her eyes said everything words couldn't.

Thora gazed back with a flat, unreadable expression. Not a flicker of response.

Lance spoke again, his tone tinged with amusement. "All you have to do is get her to speak on your behalf, and I'll let you both walk."

His thin lips curved into an effortlessly elegant arc, but the smile was cold and bloodless. Only his blue eyes, when they drifted toward Thora, carried a warmth that didn't exist anywhere else.

Sierra looked at Frost, barely clinging to life on the ground, then back at Thora.

The scene felt hauntingly familiar. And in the end, the person she was turning to was the same one as before.

Somehow, without her even noticing when it started, this woman had become tangled in their fate.

She fixed her gaze on Thora once more, bit down hard on her lower lip, and forced out four agonizing words, one by one. "Thora ... please ... help us..."

Those four words drained every last drop of strength she had.

Watching Sierra lower her head and beg, Frost bit through his own lip too. The taste of blood flooded his mouth.

He knew Sierra better than anyone. Even back at the thief syndicate headquarters, in a place as brutal and unforgiving as that, she had never once groveled before another person.

But now, for him, she was bowing her head to Thora.

This was the second time. The first time she had ever set aside her pride in front of someone else.

It cut Frost to the bone. He would rather die on the spot, yet he was terrified that if he did, Sierra would truly follow him into the dark.

He was torn apart by the contradiction—he couldn't bear the thought of Sierra living in this world alone, yet he couldn't stomach the idea of someone so young throwing her life away.

"Please ... save him. Save us both..." Sierra drew a shaking breath and tried again, her voice thick with desperation.

Something flickered in Thora's eyes—a sudden, quiet brightness—as she studied Sierra closely.

In those eyes, she saw it. A fierce, burning will to survive. And beneath it, a fragile but unmistakable spark of hope for the future.

She wanted to live.

There was still light in those eyes.

Just like back during the island trial when they'd fought. Even cornered, even at the edge of oblivion, the fire behind Sierra's gaze had never gone out.

It was that same fire that had made Thora spare her the first time.

Without warning, Thora dropped straight down from the roof of the truck.

Every person on the scene tensed instantly, but Thora didn't make a move against anyone.

She simply looked at Sierra, the faintest curve touching her lips, then raised her wrist and glanced at her watch. "It's 9:10 p.m. Starting now, you belong to me. One month of service, at my disposal. The moment the clock hits this exact time one month from now, you're free."