Lucia's fingers pressed the play button on the remote, and the TV flickered to life, casting a cold blue light across the damp, dimly lit basement.
The hum of the screen filled the room, but the three men were too absorbed in their own pain to notice.
Volkan was doubled over, a guttural groan escaping his lips as the searing pain from his branded chest refused to subside.
The mark Lucia had left on him—a raw, angry burn—throbbed with every breath he took, sending waves of agony through his body.
His eyes were half-lidded, struggling to stay conscious, but every time he blinked, the pain dragged him back into the nightmare.
Tynan sat motionless, his expression blank, almost detached.
His mind had retreated to a place where the pain couldn't touch him.
He stared straight ahead, but his eyes were unfocused, not truly seeing what was in front of him.
