Ivy's eyes gleamed with malice despite her frail state. "I still want it."
Alistair winced, finally confronted with the ugly truth he'd been avoiding. The discomfort on his face was palpable as he shifted in his chair, torn between the woman dying before him and the reality of her nature.
"Give it to me," Ivy demanded, her voice stronger now, fueled by spite.
I held the jade bracelet in my palm, the cool weight of it familiar against my skin. My grandmother had given it to me on my sixteenth birthday, telling me it held our family's strength.
"You don't deserve this," I said quietly.
"Neither do you," Ivy spat back. "Nothing you have was ever truly yours to keep."
Alistair cleared his throat. "Hazel, please. Just... let her have it."
I looked at him, searching for any sign of the man I thought I knew. There was none. Just a weak shell, desperate to appease the dying woman before him.
"You're still choosing her," I stated flatly.