Elena wakes to the sound of dripping water.
Not close enough to reach.
Not meant for her.
Just enough to torment her.
Her lips are cracked, her throat raw, her body trembling from dehydration and exhaustion. Every muscle aches. Her head feels heavy, her vision blurred at the edges. She doesn’t know how long she’s been here — only that the darkness never changes, and the witch never stops.
The door creaks open.
Elena flinches before she can stop herself.
The witch steps inside, her expression bright and rested, as if she’s arriving for a pleasant morning routine. “Day three,” she says lightly. “This is where most wolves start to break.”
Elena forces her head up. “I’m not most wolves.”
The witch smiles. “No. You’re half witch. Which makes this… fascinating.”
She lifts her hand, and
