The world returned to Damian in fragments light, breath, pain.
Cold stone dug into his palms as he crawled forward, lungs burning as if he hadn't used them in years. The cell door hung half-broken behind him, smoke curling from the hinges where an explosive charge had been set. A faint metallic ringing still echoed in the narrow corridor.
Seraphina's doing.
It had to be.
His vision swam, but he forced himself upright, gripping the damp wall for balance. Every muscle in his body trembled. Hunger gnawed. His wrists were torn raw from chains that had been ripped off earlier in the escape.
But he was free.
For the first time in months, he tasted the air of possibility.
A shadow shifted ahead, and he nearly lunged only to see her. Seraphina stepped out of the smoke, hair wild, eyes dark and fierce. She tossed him a bottle of water and an emergency med pack.
"You need to move," she said sharply. "Alessandro's men will realize the breach soon."
