Serena
Pain.
That was the first thing I felt.
It started in my ribs, sharp and stabbing. Then it spread to my legs, my arms, my skull. Every inch of my body ached like it had been crushed, broken, left to rot.
I groaned, barely able to open my eyes. Everything was blurry—just blobs of shadows moving under orange light.
Where am I?
The scent hit me next. Sweat. Blood. Rotting meat. Wet earth.
I gagged.
My mouth was dry. My lips cracked. When I tried to move, I couldn’t. My wrists were still cuffed in front of me, and now my ankles were tied too. Thick ropes scraped against my skin.
The blur cleared slowly.
I was lying on the ground in the middle of a makeshift camp. A filthy, disgusting camp. Torches flickered on sharp wooden stakes. Tattered tents and broken crates surrounded a d
