I like this bit. It’s from later in the book, which means you’ll hate me, but that’s okay by me. Enjoy!
PS: Anyone else looking forward to the long weekend as much as I am?
The dungeons were aptly named; they were a cold, dank, windowless place meant to leech any lingering happiness from a person’s soul, filled with the bitterly cold howling wind Cass remembered from when the Unseelie had possessed her. The only advantage of that icy wind was that it muffled the smell of waste that rose up around them.
Cass sat against the wall, wearing a plain linen tunic that fell to her knees, Gideon to her right in a shorter tunic and breeches. Clothed the same way as Gideon, Ronan and Ryan sat across from them, all four being careful to keep their eyes trained on the ground. None of them spoke as the sound of a whip cracking into flesh echoed from up the corridor, mingling with the laughter of the guards and Aedhán’s occasional grunt of pain.
Just scream, dammit, Cass thought desperately. Just scream, Aedhán, and they’ll stop hitting you. But even as she thought it, she knew he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, knew it was against everything he was.