Darkness pressed against her from all sides, heavy and damp. The air was thick, carrying the smell of wet earth and rusted iron. A low throb pulsed at the back of her head, spreading in steady waves until it settled behind her eyes. She blinked. The world swayed. When her vision cleared, she was on the ground, hands bound behind her back, ankles tied. Her cheek rested against cold stone. Faint light filtered through cracks in the walls, enough to show rough-hewn metal bars and the curve of a small, dirt-covered space. A den. Or a holding cell. Her breath hitched, though she forced herself to stay quiet. Panicking wouldn’t help. She drew in air slowly, counting the seconds. One, two, three. The scent of wolves lingered in the air, male, strong, but unclean. Rogues. Her pulse quickened. She remembered the stream. The water had been cold against her hands. She’d heard a sound, something like a branch snapping, but before she could turn, pain exploded at the back of her skull. Then n
Last Updated : 2025-11-14 Read more