Darkness curled around Selena like living chains, cold and unyielding. She fought against it, thrashing, clawing, but the more she resisted, the tighter it squeezed, as if it had a mind of its own. Her lungs burned for air, her heart pounded in her ears.
Then, abruptly, the shadows released her.
Selena crashed to the stone floor, gasping, her palms scraping against the rough surface. The chamber spun, her body aching as if something had torn through her from the inside out. Every nerve in her body screamed in protest, but she forced herself to push up onto her elbows.
Veyron stood over her, unmoved. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim torchlight, filled with something between amusement and expectation.
“You resist,” he murmured, “but resistance only delays the inevitable.”
Selena gritt
