I'm a prisoner again.
I thought I was past this stage. I didn't think I'd ever bend to anyone's will again, but Garrett is practically forcing me to obey him. He doesn't take no for an answer. He expects me to acquiesce to his every command. It's been twenty-four hours since everything was revealed, yet it feels like an entire week has gone by.
I dreamt of Cayden tonight, not Cyran. It's the first dream I have ever had of him. He was behind a cell, a filthy cell, and his body was covered in thick angry marks. Some were oozing blood and pus like he was whipped with silver. His head was hanging low and he was gripping the bars with considerable force. As I approached him, he raised his head. Both his eyes were blue and swollen. His lips were split and huge. He extended his arm, reaching out for me. Before I got to him, I sat up in bed.
