Elias’ POV
It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and already they’ve forced me to change into this outfit that makes me look like a criminal. My chest feels tight as I pace back and forth in the cell, wrists still cuffed, the cold metal biting into my skin. Five years. Five years since I was last locked away like this, and now here I am again—confined, cornered, caged. Panic scratches at the edge of my mind, but I fight it, refusing to lose myself. Not again.
The sharp creak of the door opening pulls my attention immediately. An officer steps inside, his face blank, voice clipped. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer. His silence presses on me harder than the cuffs do. I bite back more questions and simply follow, boots heavy against the floor.
They lead
