Nathan's POV
With a clenched jaw, I lowered myself to the cold floor, resting my back against the damp stone wall. My fists were tight, and my muscles tensed as I pulled my knees up, not for comfort—but to stay alert, ready for whatever came next.
"This is bullshit," I muttered under my breath, my voice calm but laced with anger. "What the hell is going on…"
Life had taken a brutal turn. First, I was forced into something slavery, and now—locked in a dungeon like some criminal.
A sharp yell tore from my throat. "This is a damn mistake!"
"Shut the hell up," a deep male voice growled from the opposite cell. "Some of us are trying to rest."
I said nothing in response, just exhaled sharply and stared into the pitch-black void around me. The silence in this dungeon was louder than a battlefield. I leaned my head back against the wall, letting the darkness settle around me like smoke.
"I just wanna die." I growled.
