Chapter 17

A shudder wracked Camila’s body as her silent sobs finally subsided. She had been crying so long that her muscles ached, and every breath felt like splintered glass in her chest. Her shoulders quivered as if a storm raged in her bones, and the dull, musty air of the dungeon pressed heavily on her lungs. Around her, the stone walls bore damp stains; the single torchlight flickered and sputtered, casting gaunt shadows that danced across the floor. Camila buried her face in her arms, her damp hair clinging to her cheeks, and let another whimper escape—quiet, desperate, weary. No matter how many tears she shed, no matter how long the trail of salt carved its way down her face, the wound in her heart—inflicted by Alina’s cold betrayal—refused to heal.

At last, when her strength finally ebbed, she slid down until her back hit the rough stone. The chill of the wall seep