Sienna's POV The crowd fell into a jagged silence while two eyes ignited from the throat of the dark tunnel, appearing as deep, sulfurous pits that didn’t just look at me, but weighed my very soul. I staggered back, leaving my heels to catch on the uneven wood of the stage. The air in the Arc prison was thick, smelling of dry sawdust and old iron to create a heavy, suffocating scent that felt like it was trying to coat the inside of my lungs. “You're putting me in chains against that?” I called out, my voice feeling thin against the vast, open hunger of the arena. I looked up at the dais with my wrists raw where the iron bit into my skin, the metal running ice-cold and etched with runes that hummed with a low, suppressive energy. Clara didn’t answer, nor did she even look at me, leaning toward Kael instead as her fingers traced his jaw to mingle with a practiced, sickening intimacy. I reached inward, searching for the heat of the bond, but Damien hadn't recovered. He was a flicke
Read more