LIAM’S P.O.V
The cell was colder than I remembered. The air smelled of damp stone and old silver. The faint hum of Selene’s seals buzzed through the walls like a slow heartbeat that refused to stop. I stepped inside quietly, letting the steel door close behind me. The locks slid into place with a heavy click, and for a long moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing.
He didn’t move.
Lance sat on the edge of the narrow cot, his head bowed, wrists bound by glowing cuffs that shimmered faintly with Selene’s light. His hair was longer, streaked with gray. The skin around his eyes was pale, but his posture hadn’t changed. Even sitting there, chained and silent, he carried himself like someone who still believed he owned the room.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and
