Chapter 45 The Cold Dungeon

• The darkness wasn't just the absence of light; it was a hungry, dangerous cloak pulled over Silver-Moon, a darkness only intensified by the phantom presence of a waning moon. The wind didn't just blow; it screamed a chaotic symphony that merged with the guttural, intensified howls of the wolves.
• Elara’s world was a blur of raw panic and searing pain. The voices…vile, predatory and wet with lust…clawed at her last shred of sanity.
• “How tasteful she looks,” one rasped, his breath hot and foul.