CALEB
The cold air in the dungeon bit at my skin as I descended the stone steps, and Hunter was right behind me. The smell of damp stone and iron mixed with something more pungent—blood. The sounds of distant screams, groans, and the clink of chains echoed off the walls, but I didn’t flinch. I had grown used to this place over the years. Hunter, too. Torture cells were necessary in our world. Sometimes, words alone weren’t enough.
We reached the cell door where Ethan had been held for days. His wrists were bound in thick iron shackles, his head hanging low, muscles tense beneath his sweat-soaked shirt. But as we stepped closer, he lifted his head, revealing a crooked grin through the blood and bruises covering his face.
"Finally," Ethan rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. "The grea
