The first thing I noticed was the silence.
It wasn't the peaceful silence of the daycare after the cubs went home. It was a heavy, crushing silence. The kind you feel at the bottom of a very deep well.
The second thing I noticed was the cold. It seeped into my bones, a damp, pervasive chill that made my teeth chatter before I even opened my eyes.
I tried to move my arms to rub warmth into them. I couldn't.
Clink. Ratt-le.
My eyes snapped open.
I wasn't dead. I wasn't in my old apartment eating instant noodles.
I was lying on a slab of cold, smooth black rock. And my wrists were shackled to the wall.
The shackles weren't made of rusty iron like Grieve's cage. They were carved from a heavy, iridescent material that felt like volcanic glass, cold and unbreakable.
I sat up, my soaked festival dress clinging uncomfortably to my skin. I looked around.
Okay, Primrose. Gamer brain on. Assess the environment.
