In the cold, dark dungeons of what used to be the Blood Moon pack territory, Rhiannon sat in a weakened, poor state.
Her clothes were torn and covered in dirt; her hair was a mess… matted with grime and tangled beyond recognition. Her skin looked pale from lack of sunlight and proper nourishment. The cell was wet, freezing, and totally uncomfortable.
She'd been forgotten here, left to rot in the darkness. Days had blurred into weeks, and she'd lost count of how long she'd been imprisoned in this forsaken place.
"I curse you, Alia," Rhiannon muttered bitterly. Her voice was hoarse from disuse and the damp air filling her lungs. "I curse the day I ever let you have that stone. I curse myself for being so blind, so stupid. So trusting."
As if summoned by her words, the air in front of her cell shimmered with an otherworldly light, and Alia materialized with a cold smile on her face, looking radiant and powerful in stark contrast to Rhiannon's wretched state.
