HARRIET’S POV
The dungeon is dark and cold.
I sit on the cold bench with my back pressed against the wall. Chains clink softly every time I shift. I hate it here. I think of a plan to break free from this prison.
But the truth is, even locked away, I still hold the upper hand—or so they think.
Carissa. The name burns like acid in my chest. How is it possible she survived? I saw her fall, saw the knife plunge into her flesh. The wolfsbane laced along the blade was potent enough to kill even the strongest of wolves. Yet here we are, and she’s still breathing. I can’t help but clench my fists. The memory of her lifeless form flashes in my mind. I remember how angry I was when I heard she was still alive.
Still, I’ve made them believe I know more than I do. It's a game, one I’ve played ma
