The dungeon of the Iron-Wood Manor had never been used.
It was deep underground, and no one had seen any use in it until today.
Roxy had insisted on building it "just in case," claiming that every good castle needed a place to put unruly guests or wine barrels. Or maybe she thought it would be a good place to explore her fantasies.
BDSM at its peak.
She had joked about it, laughing as she designed the heavy iron bars.
Now, the laughter was gone.
Alice knelt on the cold stone floor. Her hands were bound with a very tight rope that burned if she moved too much. Her blonde hair was matted with dirt, her face bruised from where Axel had punched her.
For a toddler, he truly did leave a mark.
The four Kings stood outside the cell.
There was no heat in the room. Zarek had sucked the warmth out of the air, leaving a chill that seeped into the bone.
