Moira's POV

The cell door creaks open. Heavy footsteps scrape against concrete, deliberate and slow. I force myself to sit straighter against the cold wall, my wrists aching where the silver chains bite into my skin.

A cloaked figure shuffles through the doorway. The hood pulled low hides their face, but something about the hunched shoulders and careful movements sends ice through my veins. They move like someone in constant pain, each step calculated to ...