Chapter 97

Isla

The floor is wet again and it isn’t from cleaning. The pack dungeons aren’t tended to, but water is dripping down from the stones in the ceiling. Drip. Drip. It sounds like the walls are mourning me. Or maybe mocking me. Hard to tell.

“Another cold night,” I murmur and hug my arms around my knees like I’m trying to fold into a dimension where this never happened.

Spoiler: I can’t escape from