Chapter 150
VALERIA’S POV
Dimitri was dead.
His lifeless body lay still, surrounded by the very people he had tormented and betrayed.
And yet—I didn’t feel victorious.
I didn’t feel like a hero.
Instead, a sharp, twisting knot of dread and guilt settled deep inside me, like a festering wound that refused to heal.
I should have felt relief. Peace.
But all I felt was…
Empty.
A murderer.
I had taken a life.
Yes, it was justified. Yes, it was necessary. Yes, he deserved it.
But that didn’t make it any easier.
My gaze flickered toward Magnar. His lips were pressed together in a firm line, his golden eyes locked onto Dimitri’s body. I saw the shine of unshed tears, the war between grief and justice playing out in real time.
I turned away.
I couldn’t look at him.
I couldn’t look at any of them.
The weight of their stares, their unspoken expectations, was suffocating me.
The world blurred as my breathing grew shallow. My heartbeat pounded against my ribs. I had to get out of here.
I took a step back—then

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