Freya's POV
There was a dampness that clung to the air, an intangible shroud of mist that permeated through me as I leaned against the gritty stone wall, my wrists crying out in agony from the tightness of the iron cuffs. The dungeon was cold and unyielding, the chill penetrating deep into the bone. All that was heard was the faint, drum-like sound of dripping water, each drop ringing out within the vacant room like a macabre toll of elapsing time.
Liam had built this dungeon beneath his mansion, a hidden room to hold his enemies captive, out of sight and out of mind, and powerless to act. And now, Roy, James, and I were the latest additions to his roll of victims. The walls that held us captive smelled of damp earth and rusty metal, and the flickering torches cast grotesque shadows that danced along the rough stone. The chains that bound us captive were thick and unbreakable, tightly wrapped around our wrists and ankles, holding us fast like captives awaiting their fate. I struggled
