MIRA’S POV
The first thing I noticed was the cold.
For a minute or so after my eyes snapped open, it felt like the cold lived inside me, like something had crawled in and made a home there—something incredibly cold.
When I tried to move, something heavy tugged at my wrists. Metal bit into skin rubbed raw. I bit my lips hard as I realized I was chained tightly, with silver chains.
I blinked at the dark. My head was foggy, like I’d been drowning in thick syrup and only now broken the surface.
Where was I?
I lifted my head, and the pain came rushing in—sharp and brutal. My skull throbbed. My mouth tasted of dirt and blood. My throat burned.
I looked around, my eyes taking in the stone walls, mold creeping through the cracks. Water dripped somewhere distant, steady and mocking. A single
