Lyra sat in the cold, dark room, her wrists bound by heavy chains, the metal biting into her skin. The cold stone floor beneath her chilled her to the bone, but she barely felt it. Her mind was far away, racing with thoughts she couldn't escape.
Kael's face flashed in her mind—his last, broken expression before she had surrendered to Marcus to save his life. She could still see the blood pooling around him, his body weak and battered, barely able to move. He had risked everything to save her, and now… now she wasn't even sure what she had saved him for.
Marcus's voice echoed in her ears, his taunting words replaying over and over.
"You're a fool to think he cares about you."
