Nyx's Pov

The stench of the dungeon hit me first.

Rot, damp stone, rusted iron and mold that crawled into my lungs. I felt nauseous.

I blinked awake on the cold ground, my head pounding. Dried blood filled my hair, sticking to my temple. Water dripped from the ceiling, steady drops that echoed like a cruel clock counting down my time.

My throat burned, raw from screaming earlier, though I didn’t remember when I had stopped.

I pushed myself up slowly. ...