~Storme~
The cold was worse tonight. Not the kind that seeped through bones, but the kind that makes you think about the vicissitudes of life. The uneven floor pressed against my spine like cracked, jagged teeth, and each breath I took was filled with the stale, damp air. My wrists ached where the silver chains had rubbed my skin raw, and my lips were dry, cracked.
Grace hadn’t been allowed to visit. I hadn’t seen another face all day. Only rats. And silence. And shadows.
“Is this really how I’m going to die? Without seeing people that I love?”
A choked sob escaped my throat. I was weak. I was too weak to fight. My back was still aching with the strokes of canes that the guards had lashed out on me after the trial, which I learned was the alpha king’s command.
That devil in disguise.
