Dante's POV

The chains had started to become the only thing I could feel. Not because they were the most painful thing in the room. They were not. The wounds on my body hurt. My ribs still burned every time I breathed too deeply. My legs felt weak from the injuries, and the blood loss had drained whatever strength I had left. But none of that compared to what was happening inside my head.

Mrs. Vera was dead. The woman who had raised me. The woman who had been there when nobody ...