Verity's pov

The cold crept in slowly.

It always did.

Stone beneath my back. Damp, unforgiving. A single breath stirred dust in the stagnant air. There were no chains this time, but the silence pressed down on me heavier than iron ever could. I didn’t bother to sit up. I simply stared at the ceiling which was cracked and blackened. The smell of mildew and rot clung to the air like a second skin.

I was used to cages. My whole life has been spent in one after all.

Three years in the ...