Cassie awoke with a faint sense of awareness. Her body felt cold, and her breaths were labored, as if the air itself was becoming harder to draw into her lungs. The room was dim, and she could only feel the rough surface against her back, holding up her weakened body. Cold shackles wrapped around her wrists, digging in with a dull pain every time she moved even a little.
The weakness of her illness had fully overtaken her now. Cold sweat drenched her forehead, and each breath felt like a stabbing knife pressing harder against her chest. She tried to focus her gaze, attempting to grasp where she was, but her head felt heavy, as though filled with fog that clouded her thoughts.
A soft voice came from the corner of the room. "You're too fragile to keep fighting, Cassie." It was a voice she knew all too well — Lucca.
