Caleb´s POV
The air in the cell was heavy, thick with mold, and the lingering burn of silver on my wrists was a constant reminder of my captivity. The dim light from a lamp filtered through the half-open door cast dancing shadows on the cold stone walls, like ghosts from my past mocking me. My body ached from the beating, each bruise an echo of the blows of the wolves who had dragged me here after Mara's screams. Sigvar snarled in my mind, his fury a fire that threatened to break the chains, but the silver weakened him, his roar a frustrated murmur. I sat on the hard floor, my back against the wall, my mind a whirlwind of rage, guilt, and resignation.
The decision I had made weighed like a mountain. Accepting Mara's deal—bearing her a child, marrying her, reclaiming Bloodhowl—was a betra
