Dravina POV

The moment we reached the stronghold, I was thrown into a cell. I'd never expected kindness, but part of me had clung to the fragile hope of a shred of mercy.

They took my bag. Dread coiled in my gut as I imagined them rifling through it cash and two spare outfits. Nothing else. It screamed guilt. Who runs from rogues with just money and a change of clothes? It didn't paint the picture of a desperate escapee. It made me look like a thief. Or worse.

Hopelessness settled over me ...