Naeva Quinn

I fell back to the floor, my palm throbbed in pain from the impact of the fall. My breath came out ragged, clouding the air before me. I pressed my injured hand against my chest.

And realization hit me, that this place was far more dangerous than I thought.

“Theo,” I called again, my voice, a plea more than anything.

Silence answered me.

I swallowed, tried again, this time louder. “Theo!”

Nothing.

The room itself answered back—a voice that didn't feel human. low, ...