Benedict's POV
The stench of this dungeon cell grew worse with every passing minute.
I had been perched on this freezing stone bench long enough for the cold to seep through my pants and settle deep in my bones. My shirt clung to my back with sweat. When I glanced down at my hands, I noticed a slight tremor that I couldn't completely control, no matter how firmly I pressed my palms against my legs.
Something was seriously wrong with my body.
The fever hadn't broken. If anything, it had intensified. Heat rolled through my chest in relentless waves, tugging at my focus and making it nearly impossible to maintain a coherent train of thought. My pulse hammered erratically, speeding up and then slowing down as if it couldn't find its proper rhythm.
I kept my expression blank.
