VIOLET
Pain.
That was the first thing I felt.
A throbbing ache behind my eyes, a burning sensation along my wrists where the ropes had rubbed raw, and a dull pounding in my head that made the world spin.
I groaned, blinking against the blinding glare of a low-hanging lantern. The air was thick with smoke, musk, and something else—something sour. Sweat. Blood. Decay.
Where the hell was I?
I tried to sit up, but my body protested with a sharp jab of pain along my side. My hands were still tied—tighter this time—and my ankles bound, too. I was lying on the hard-packed earth floor of what looked like a crumbling shed or maybe a hunting cabin long abandoned. The walls were wooden, half-rotted, and the only window was boarded shut. Moonlight streamed faintly through the cracks.
My heart started to race.
The memory came rushing back like a slap to the face.
The woods.
Wolf's yelp.
Hands grabbing me.
The face—his face.
That rogue leader.
