Leila’s POV
I woke to the taste of damp stone and stale air. My head throbbed, each heartbeat a drum in my temples. I tried to open my eyes but the world swam before me, darkness, then vague shapes as the muscles around my lids fluttered into focus. I lay on something hard and cold, my wrists pinned above my head.
Panic jolted through me and I tried to lift my arms. A sharp tug in my forearms stopped me. I gasped, feeling soft, silvery threads wrapped tightly around my wrists. I strained against them. The silk felt smooth under my skin, almost like water, but it… burned? No, tingled. Numbed.
My breathing caught in my throat. I forced another breath and tried again. My arms lifted enough to feel loose cloth beneath them, my shirt, torn at the sleeves. I looked down; my wrists were bound
