Mildew, sweat, fear, filth, rust and more dose of fear again was what the walls around Seraphina smelled of.

Her arms ached from being suspended for hours and her wrists were raw, itchy, sour and bleeding against the thick chains that held them up.

Her back still throbbed and pulsed every now and then from Jared’s earlier sets of merciless whipping.

So far she'd collected three sessions of the whipping.

Now with her head bent looking to the dirty ground beneath her feet, every little ...