Chapter 85 Chains In The Dark

• The cell reeked of damp concrete and rusted chains. My wrists throbbed where the iron cuffs bit into my skin, and every time I shifted, the metal scraped bone. I tried to breathe slowly, tried to remember that panic only wasted energy. But my lungs betrayed me, shuddering, shallow, desperate.
• I’d fought. God, I’d fought so hard. But Jason’s men had been faster, colder, more ruthless. Jaxon had been dragged down under a storm of fists before my eyes, and then I was gone, thrown into the back of a van like cargo.
• The silence now was worse than the chaos had been.