CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Natalie's POV

My hands get shaky.

Is he okay? Have they gotten to him as they threatened to? Right now, what bothers my mind are questions of his safety, thousands of them.

The mug I'm holding drops from my hand, and the glass clatters as it breaks into pieces.

I jolt back, regaining myself after the mess.

"I'm so sorry my lady, are you hurt?" Sasha asks, her voice sounding worried. She reaches down to gather the rest of the glass with a bigger piece.

I don't respond, rather I stare into space.

"My lady, please step back a little..." She waits, but I don't move. "My lady, please take a few steps backward." She repeats.

I'm aware of all that's going on, but I remain glued to a spot like I need a push to move.