Ivy's POV
From the moment we were thrown into their dungeons, the sun became nothing more than a distant memory. Days bled into nights, swallowed whole by the suffocating darkness. Time lost all meaning in this cold, damp cell, where the only light came from the flickering torches the guards carried when they came to drag us to our labor.
Every morning since I arrived, the routine had been the same—wake up before dawn, get dragged out of the filthy cell, and work until exhaustion consumed me. The guards didn’t care if we were weak, tired, or sick. To them, we were nothing but slaves.
The stench of sweat and decay had become a part of me. At first, it made me gag, but after a week, I had learned to endure it. The other prisoners—women like me, broken but still breathing—were no differ
