Her mind constricted as she tried to force a loud scream to enter their heads, but nothing came. Not a whisper. Not a breath. The bindings around her soul squeezed tighter, forbidding her from raising her voice, from letting even a pitiful cry escape.
Cassandra bit down hard, hard enough to taste blood, and tried again.
This time, she didn't simply try to scream.
It wasn't a voice meant for ears. It was shrill, jagged, a banshee's wail made from pain and fury, designed not to be heard but to rend. It clawed into every connected mind, high-pitched and violent enough to make one flinch.
But no other voice answered her.
Only his.
A low, dark chuckle slithered into her mind, rich with mockery. The kind of sound that froze blood in the veins.
And then…
