EWAN’S POV

My screams echoed against stone walls. Darkness pressed in from all sides, broken only by the faint glow of candlelight that cast Mother's face in sinister shadows. Her hands, usually so gentle when guests were present, gripped my jaw with bruising force.

"Open," she commanded, her voice cold as winter steel.

I clamped my mouth shut, tears streaming down my face. The bitter scent of the herbs made my stomach heave.

"You want to be strong, don't you?" Her fingers dug deeper. "You ...