POV: Zina
The damp chill of the dungeon gnawed at my bones, but the presence of the stranger before me made me forget the discomfort. He lingered in the shadows, unseen but undeniably there, his words coiling around me like smoke, impossible to ignore.
"Because if she gets her hands on you again, there won't be anything left of you to save."
The warning sent a shiver down my spine, though I refused to let him see it. I had spent too many years learning to mask my fear, too many nights whispering to myself that I would never break—no matter how much they tried to shatter me.
I tilted my chin up, forcing steel into my voice. "And why should I trust you?"
Silence.
Then, in a voice smooth and edged with something dangerous, he answered, "You shouldn't."
I swallowed hard.
