MAETHYS POV
…twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Gone.
Fourteen steps before I can’t hear them anymore.
I held the number in my skull like it was a nail hammered through fog—something solid I could press my thoughts against so they didn’t scatter.
It was dark now. A couple of hours since I had woken up. My lungs burned, shallow and careful. My skin lit up with pain—sharp, crawling, like thousands of ants biting at once.
The metal under me, the air around me, the chains at my wrists. It all burned, my skin bright red.
I didn’t understand it. I only knew it hurt.
I kept listening.
Heavy boots walking around paired with deep voices.
The occasional sandals moving quickly and quietly.
And then, voices.
At first, it was far enough away that it blurred, words just beyond my reach. Men yelli
