I buried my face between my knees, unable to move or cry out, utterly defeated.

Breathe. Just breathe.

After what seemed like hours, the pain slowly diminished, leaving behind a bone-deep ache, and I forced my eyes open. The cell swam in and out of focus, shadows dancing at the edges ofmy vision. Nausea roiled in my stomach, and I swallowed down the bitter taste of bile.

Slowly, painfully, I uncurled, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through my body. I stared at the walls. The eerie green shadows were now twisting and turning like a snake, and the cracks gleamed dully in the dim light.

I slumped against the wall, feeling utterly powerless, my chest heaving as I fought to regain control of my breathing. The cold stone at my back was an anchor grounding me in this grim reality. My mind raced, searching desperately for a solution, an escape, but as the echoes of my scream faded into silence, so too did my hope.

The high priestess had me just where she wanted me.

Nobody knew where I was—she could keep me here as long as she wanted. I shuddered, remembering what she'd done to Professor Eastey and his wife, both now lying comatose in a nursing home. Would I end up the same way? Worse? My heart thundered in my chest just thinking of it.

The lock on the door clicked open, the sound slicing through the silence. A jolt of fear shot down my spine as I scrambled back, my feet slipping on the grimy floor. I collided against the far wall, its cold damp surface leeching what little warmth remained from my skin.

High Priestess Dixon glided into the cell, her malevolent presence sucking the very air from the room. She wore a dark robe that absorbed the dim light rather than reflected it, her raven hair almost disappearing into the fabric. Her brown eyes flashed with a cruel delight that made my skin crawl.

“Hello, Peyton,” she purred, her voice saccharine, oozing false concern. The sound of my name on her lips made my stomach clench. “I hope my friend didn’t hurt you too badly.”

I thought of “her friend” with his glowing red eyes and shivered. I would never forget those eyes. They would foreverhaunt me, burning in my nightmares like twin embers in a dying fire. There had been something evil in their depths, a malevolence that had reached out and caressed my soul with icy fingers, and when they had locked onto mine, the world around us had faded away, leaving only an overwhelming sense of dread and an unnatural silence.

I found myself unconsciously rubbing my arms, trying to ward off the phantom chill that accompanied the unwelcome recollection. My heart raced, and I glanced nervously around the dimly lit room, half-expecting to see those baleful red orbs glowing in the depths of the shadows.

The high priestess spread her arms wide, the sleeves of her robe billowing like dark wings. As she whirled around, she stirred up the air, carrying a faint scent of exotic perfume that was jarringly out of place in the dank cell.

“How do you like your new accommodations?” Her lips curled into a smirk, and the chuckle in her voice sent ice through my veins.

I decided to ignore her question, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the fear building in my gut. “What do you want?”

Her eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam intensifying in their depths. “Don’t play dumb, Peyton. You know exactly what I want—the Dragon Nexus. And you are going to help me get it.”

I gritted my teeth, jaw clenched so tight it ached. “Never,” I spat.

The high priestess tutted. “Oh, you say that now, but I have ways to make you do what I want.” Her smile widened, revealing teeth that suddenly seemed unnaturally sharp.

I forced myself to meet her gaze, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “There’s nothing you can do that would ever make me help you.” Even as I said it, cold dread seeped into my bones.

She cocked an eyebrow and tossed her black hair over her shoulder, the casual gesture incongruous with the menace in hervoice. “Really? Nothing? I doubt it. Would you like to know who is in one of these cells?”

She peered at me closely, waiting for me to crack. I summoned every ounce of composure I had, steeling myself against the rising tide of anxiety in my chest. I put on my stoniest face and gave her a stare that usually made people look away.

She only laughed, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. “Oh, Peyton. What a child you are. You’re not fooling me.” Her eyes glinted with cruel amusement. She leaned in close, her breath hot in my ear as she whispered. “The special mystery guest is none other than your father.”

Her words stirred up all the pain I had kept buried for years—the pain of knowing my father had abandoned me without a thought. I didn’t know what he looked like, had never even seen a photo. Mom never spoke of him, either, as if his memory was too painful to bear.

She examined at her fingernails absently. “Yes, he’s been with me for years. My favorite little prisoner. A black dragon. Fancy that!”

I choked on my next breath, making my eyes tear up. My heart hammered against my ribs as memories flashed through my mind—years and years of unanswered questions, of empty chairs at school events, of longing glances as I looked enviously at other kids with their dads.

“You’re a liar.” My voice cracked, betraying the tumultuous storm of emotions raging inside me. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to deny her words with every fiber of my being. But a small part of me that I’d silenced for years whispered that it might be true.

My father hadn’t abandoned me at all. He was a prisoner of war.

She took a step closer, and I had to fight the urge to shrink back from her. “Your weakness is that you care about people,Peyton. If you won’t help me, I’ll make them suffer, especially your father. The choice is yours. Simple, really.”

Her threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I struggled to breathe, my chest tightening with panic as all sorts of horrifying possibilities flashed through my mind.

Chapter