Isabella’s POV
The coldness of the floor scraped under my bare feet as the guards dragged me through the corridor.
My arms still throbbed from the manacles that had been ripped off too fast, skin burning where metal had chewed into me all night. Every step ached, but I forced my spine straight. I wouldn’t let them see me stagger.
Not here. Not ever.
The Redmoon packhouse spread around me... dark walls, torchlight flickering, shadows dancing like they were alive.
The guard on my left grunted. “She walks like she owns the place.”
“She won’t for long,” the other answered.
I didn’t bother looking at them. Let them talk. Let them laugh. Let them fantasize about how their King would break me.
They had no idea who I truly was.
And that was my only advantage.
The guards shoved open a
