MINA
The frantic rumbling of my thoughts grinds to a halt as the heavy crunch of boots echoes against the stone floor just outside my cell. My nostrils instantly pick up the incoming scents—male, disgusting, and drenched in sour sweat and cheap beer.
My spine straightens on pure instinct, every muscle in my body drawing tight.
The guards have finished their game?
I turn around slowly, forcing my features to smooth out into a mask of icy indifference as Zeno steps up to the iron bars.
Maybe I should sing, I mutter under my breath, my eyes locking onto the wicked, predatory glint in his gaze. He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on the contours of my body with a slow sensuality that makes my skin crawl with disgust.
He is creepy. A bottom-feeding parasite who wouldn't have even been allowed to breathe the same air as me twelve hours ago.
"Hello, Mina…" he drawls, his voice a low, greasy purr as he grips the rusted bars, his knuckles pale against the iron.
