Elara's pov
Pain was the first thing I knew when I woke up, but it was better than being dead. Although, on second thought, I might have preferred that too.
My head throbbed and for a few long seconds, I couldn't remember where I was.
I tried to move my hands, but the cold bite of iron stopped me. I looked down to see that my wrists were chained to a damp stone wall, but I had to keep my arms strained and rigid; the moment my shoulder blades brushed the rock, a jolt of blistering heat lanced through my skin.
The air was thick with the smell of wet earth, urine, rust, and old blood.
But the pain in my head wasn't the worst part. It was the ache in my chest.
For days, I'd been saturated in Lucian's energy and the steady, rain-like calm of Killian. Now, both were gone. The connection had been severed so completely that it felt like a withdrawal.
I felt cold and empty.
"Awake at last," a raspy voice drifted through the dark.
I looked up.
