Illyana's POV
My mind swam in a murky sea of fragmented images – the sterile white walls of the midwife’s office, the fake midwife’s chillingly familiar smile, the acrid smell of chloroform, the masked men, their eyes cold and hard, their touch a violation. I struggled to surface, to grasp onto reality, to piece together the fractured memories of the abduction, the terror, the sudden, suffocating darkness that had swallowed me whole.
I woke with a gasp, my body aching, my head throbbing, my throat parched. My wrists and ankles were bound tightly, the rough ropes digging into my skin. I thrashed against the restraints, my movements frantic, desperate, but the ropes held firm, unyielding. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at the edges of my control, threatening to overwhelm me, to drag me back
