Chapter 66

Lucien

The dungeon reeks of damp stone, rotting blood, and burning magic.

Chains dig into my wrists where Zyra nailed them through my palms. My arms are stretched out wide and pinned to the wall, my head drooping to the side from the iron spike driven through my throat. It hasn’t killed me. It can’t kill me, but it paralyzes the voice she fears most: mine.

My magic tries to stitch me back together