Natalie POV
The three hours passed not in minutes, but in the slow, agonizing drip of water against the subterranean stone. Every second felt like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest, compressing the air in my lungs until each breath was a ragged chore.
The silver cuffs around my wrists had stopped stinging; my skin had gone completely numb, the cold metal binding my spiritual energy so tightly that I could barely feel Selene’s presence inside my mind. She was huddled deep in the dark, wrapped around the tiny, fragile spark of life in my womb, shivering like a dying flame in a winter gale.
“They are coming, Natalie,” she whispered, her voice barely a vibration against my consciousness. “The iron... I can smell the furnace from here.”
I didn't answer her. I couldn't. I sat rigidly
