Erick
The dungeon smelled of iron, cold stone, and dried blood.
It was a place I rarely entered myself. Not because I feared it, but because when I did, it meant someone had crossed a line so final that mercy no longer existed for them.
Tonight, that someone was Sonya.
My boots echoed against the stone steps as I descended, each step measured, controlled.
Rage burned in my chest, but I refused to let it consume me. Rage made men sloppy. Rage made kings reckless. And I was neither.
The guards straightened the moment they saw me, fists slamming against their chests in salute.
Torches flickered along the walls, casting distorted shadows that danced like restless spirits. I barely acknowledged them as I raised my hand.
“Bring her out.”
No hesitation. No questions.
Chains rattled s
