Mitchell POV
"Get the hell away from me," I bark.
The words bounce off the damp stone walls, but they do not sound like mine. The pitch is wrong. It is too high, too thin, echoing through the shadows of the cramped circular room like a frightened rabbit.
A cough rattles from the dark corner opposite the narrow window slit.
"You are a noisy little thing, aren't you?" a voice rasps.
"Shut your mouth," I snap, my hand flying to my throat.
The skin under my fingers is too soft. There are no scars. The thick, rigid muscle of my neck is completely gone. I take a fast step back, but my balance is off, my legs far too short for the stride I intended. My boot catches on a loose flagstone. I stumble, my palms slapping against the gritty floor to stay upright.
The hands staring back at me are
