Willow's POV

It was suffocating, the kind of air that presses against your chest and makes every breath feel like a battle. Every time I inhaled, the stale scent of stone and rust filled my lungs, and every time I exhaled, it felt like I was losing more of myself. The dungeon was cold, but the chill wasn’t from the walls or the floors, it was from the despair that had settled in the very marrow of my bones. I had finally gotten myself back, and the screaming had stopped when Lina clasped my ...